Gift  of  the  sons  of 
|/lrs.  Adam  Leroy  Jones 


Columbia  (Hnitier^ttp 

intlirCitpofi^rttigork 

THE  LIBRARIES 


3tt  m^morg  of 
QlkBB  of  1005 


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THE  MORE  ABUNDANT 
LIFE 

LENTEN  READINGS 


SELECTED   CHIEFLY    FROM   UNPUBLISHED   MANUSCRIPTS 
OF    THE 

RT.  REV.  PHILLIPS  BROOKS,  D.D. 

Late  Bishop  of  the  Diocese  of  Massachusetts 

By  W.  M.  L.  Jay 


NEW  YORK 
E.  P.  BUTTON  AND  COMPANY 

31  Wvisr  X^ENTY-TBIIl^  .ft.TI'JlftT 

1000      '     '  '  '■    ' 


931,73 


Copyright 
E.  P.  DUTTON  &  CO, 

1897 


"VOX  *nlcrtecb©clies  prsc»,  ^kt^  JJotft 


PREFACE. 

The  observance  of  Lent  as  a  season  of  spiritual 
awakening  and  refreshment,  is  steadily  growing  in 
favor  with  the  Christian  world.  This  crowded  and 
complex  modern  life  really  demands  a  yearly  period 
of  comparative  quietude,  wherein  the  life  of  the  soul 
— too  often  thrust  aside  and  starved  in  the  ordinary 
rush  of  business  or  pleasure — may  come  to  the  front, 
to  be  fostered  and  fed,  and  strengthened  for  what- 
ever of  trial  or  sorrow  it  must  encounter  as  its  days 
go  on.  Bishop  Phillips  Brooks,  by  largeness  of  sym- 
pathy and  fineness  of  insight,  is  well  fitted  to  guide 
us  into  this  quiet,  penitential  season.  No  one  is  less 
open  than  he  to  the  charge  of  formalism,  yet  no  one 
has  made  a  more  earnest  plea  for  the  due  observance 
of  Lent  than  that  which  is  chosen  for  the  Ash- 
Wednesday  Reading  in  this  book.  It  is  no  narrow 
asceticism  to  which  he  invites  us, but  a  "more  abun- 
dant life,"  not  of  the  flesh  but  of  the  spirit,  to  be 
lived  in  loving  dependence  upon  the  Saviour,  in 
loving  commemoration  of  the  suffering   and  death 


IV  PREFACE. 

which  He  endured   in  order  that  all  who  believe  on 
Him  might  have  life. 

The  compilation,  chiefly  from  unpublished  manu- 
scripts, has  been  a  labor  of  love.  I  humbly  hope 
that  it  may  help  some  of  us  to  find  or  keep  the 
"  way  of  life  "  through  earthly  Lents  to  the  heavenly 
Easter. 

W.  M.  L.  Jay. 


THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 


Turn  ye  even  unto  me,  saith  the  Lord,  with  all  your  heart,  and 
with  fasting,  and  with  weeping,  and  with  mourning.  And  rend  your 
heart,  and  not  your  garments,  and  turn  unto  the  Lord  your  God  ;  for 
He  is  gracious  and  merciful. — Joel,  ii.,  12,  13. 

When  ye  fast  be  not  as  the  hypocrites,  of  a  sad  countenance.  .  .  . 
That  thou  appear  not  unto  men  to  fast,  but  unto  thy  Father,  which 
is  in  secret. — Matt.,  vi.,  16,  18. 

All  bodily  discipline,  all  voluntary  abstinence 
from  pleasure  of  whatever  sort,  must  be  of  value 
either  as  a  symbol  of  something  or  as  a  means  of 
something.  This,  then,  is  the  philosophy  of  fast- 
ing: it  expresses  repentance,  and  it  uncovers  the  life 
to  God.  "  Come  down,  my  pride;  stand  back,  my 
passions;  for  I  am  wricked,  and  I  wait  for  God  to 
bless  me  "  ;  that  is  what  the  fasting  man  says.  You 
see  what  I  mean  by  fasting.  It  is  the  voluntary 
disuse  of  anything  innocent  in  itself,  with  a  view  to 

S 


2  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Spiritual  culture.  It  does  not  apply  to  food  alone. 
It  applies  to  everything  which  a  man  may  desire. 

Let  us  think  first  about  the  value  of  fasting  as  a 
symbol.  It  is  the  characteristic  of  a  symbolic  action 
that  it  increases  and  nourishes  the  feeling  to  which 
it  corresponds.  Laughter  is  the  symbol  of  joy,  but 
as  you  laugh  your  laughter  reacts  upon  the  joy  and 
heightens  it.  Tears  are  the  sign  of  sorrow,  but  they 
feed  the  sorrow  out  of  which  they  flow.  .  .  . 
And  so  it  is  no  artificial  thing,  nothing  unreal  or 
unnatural,  when  the  soul,  sorry  for  its  sins,  ashamed 
of  its  poor  bad  life,  lets  its  shame  utter  itself  in  signs 
of  humiliation,  and  finds  in  quick  and  sure  reaction 
the  shame  which  it  expresses  deepened  and  strength- 
ened through  the  utterance  which  expresses  it.   .   .   . 

Then  let  us  pass  to  the  second  value  of  fasting,  its 
value  directly  as  a  means.  The  more  we  watch  the 
lives  of  men,  the  more  we  see  that  one  of  the  reasons 
why  men  are  not  occupied  with  great  thoughts 
and  interests  is  the  way  in  which  their  lives  are 
over-filled  with  Httle  things.  It  is  not  that  you 
despise  the  highest  hopes  and  interests  of  your  im- 
mortal nature  that  you  neglect  them  so ;  it  is  mainly 
that  your  passions  crowd  so  thick  about  you  that 
you  are  entirely  occupied  with  them.  It  is  no 
untrue  picture  of  the  lives  of  many  of  us  if  we  imag- 


ASH-WEDNESDAY.  3 

ine  ourselves;  that  is,  our  wills,  standing  in  the  cen- 
tre ;  and  close  about  each  central  figure,  about  each 
man's  self,  a  crowd  of  clamorous  passions  and  eager 
lusts;  while  away  outside  of  them  there  wait,  in 
larger  circle,  the  higher  claimants  of  our  time  and 
powers — culture  and  truth  and  charity  and  religion, 
with  all  their  train.  .  .  .  The  man  sometimes 
puts  out  his  hand,  parts  and  pushes  aside  this  clam- 
orous crowd,  these  physical  appetites,  these  secular 
ambitions.  He  says  to  them,  "  Stand  back;  and, 
at  least  for  a  few  moments,  let  me  hear  what  culture 
and  truth  and  charity  and  religion  have  to  say  to  my 
soul."  Then  up  through  the  emptiness  that  he  has 
made  by  pushing  these  clamorers  back,  there  pours 
the  rich  company  of  higher  thoughts  and  interests, 
and  they  gather  for  a  time  around  the  soul  which 
belongs  to  them,  but  from  which  they  have  been 
shut  away.  .  .  .  There  is  no  nobler  sight  any- 
where than  to  behold  a  man  thus  quietly  and  reso- 
lutely put  aside  the  lower  that  the  higher  may  come 
in  to  him. 

Every  now  and  then  a  conscience,  among  the  men 
and  women  who  live  easy,  thoughtless  lives,  is 
stirred,  and  someone  looks  up  anxiously,  and  says, 
"  Is  this  wrong  ?  Is  it  wicked  to  do  this  ?  "  And 
when   they  get  their  answer,   "  No,   certainly  not 


4  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

wicked,"  then  they  go  back,  and  give  their  whole 
lives  up  to  doing  their  innocent  little  piece  of  use- 
lessness  again.  Ah  !  the  question  is  not  whether 
that  is  wicked,  whether  God  will  punish  you  for 
doing  that ;  the  question  is  whether  that  thing  is 
keeping  other  and  better  things  away  from  you ; 
whether  behind  its  little  bulk  the  vast  privilege  and 
dignity  of  duty  is  hid  from  you ;  whether  it  stands 
between  God  and  your  soul.  If  it  does,  then  it  is 
an  offence  to  you,  and  though  it  be  your  right  hand 
or  your  right  eye,  cut  it  off,  pluck  it  out,  and  cast  it 
from  you.  To  put  aside  everything  that  hinders 
the  highest  from  coming  to  us,  and  then  to  call  to 
us  that  highest  which — nay,  IV/io  is  always  waiting 
to  come, — fasting  and  prayer, — this,  as  the  habit 
and  tenor  of  a  life,  is  noble.  As  an  occasional  effort 
even,  if  it  is  real  and  earnest,  it  makes  the  soul  freer 
for  the  future.  A  short  special  communion  with 
the  unseen  and  eternal  prevents  the  soul  from  ever 
being  again  so  completely  the  slave  of  the  things  of 
sense  and  time. 

What,  then,  is  Lent  ?  Ah,  if  our  souls  are  sinful 
and  are  shut  too  close  by  many  worldlinesses  against 
that  Lord  who  is  their  Life  and  their  Saviour,  what 
do  we  need  ?  Let  us  have  the  symbols  which  belong 
to  sin  and  to  repentance.     Let  us,  at  least  for  a  few 


ASH-WEDNESDAY.  5 

weeks  among  the  "many  weeks  of  life,  proclaim  by 
soberness  and  quietude  of  life  that  we  know  our 
responsibility,  and  how  often  we  have  been  false  to 
it.  Let  us  not  sweep  through  the  whole  year  in 
buoyant  exultation,  as  if  there  were  no  shame  upon 
us,  nothing  to  repent  of,  nothing  for  us  to  fear.  By 
some  small  symbols  let  us  bear  witness  that  we 
know  something  of  the  solemnity  of  living,  the 
dreadfulness  of  sin,  the  struggle  of  repentance.  Our 
symbols  may  be  very  feeble ;  our  sackcloth  may  be 
lined  with  silk  and  our  ashes  scented  with  the  juice 
of  roses;  but  let  us  do  j-^;;/^///?;/^  that  shall  break  the 
mere  monotony  of  complacent  living,  which  seems 
to  be  forever  saying  over  to  itself  that  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  sin,  that  to  live  is  light  and  easy  work. 
Perhaps  the  symbol  may  strike  in  and  deepen  the 
solemnity  which  it  expresses.  Perhaps  as  we  tell 
God  of  what  little  sorrow  for  our  sins  we  have,  our 
sorrow  for  our  sins  may  be  increased ;  and  while  we 
stand  there  in  His  presence  the  fasting  may  gather 
a  truer  reality  of  repentance  behind  it. 

And  let  those  symbols  be  likewise  the  means  of 
opening  our  souls  to  Christ.  For  a  few  weeks  let 
those  obtrusive  worldlinesses  which  block  the  doors 
of  our  hearts  stand  back;  and  let  the  way  be  clear, 
that  He  who  longs  to  enter  in  and  help  us  may  come 


6  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

and  meet  no  obstacle.  This  is  our  Lenten  task. 
"  If  any  man  will  hear  My  voice  and  open  unto  Me, 
I  will  come  in  and  sup  with  him,"  says  Jesus.  To 
still  the  clatter  and  tumult  a  little,  so  that  we  may 
hear  His  voice,  and  to  open  the  door  by  prayer — 
that  is  the  privilege  and  duty  of  these  coming 
weeks. 

May  God  be  with  us  during  this  Lent  !  May 
we  be  with  God  !  May  there  be  much  of  the 
fasting  which  our  Father  loves,  much  penitence  for 
sin,  and  much  opening  of  long-shut  doors  to  Christ ! 
O  my  dear  friends,  let  us  enter  into  it  with  earnest- 
ness, that  we  may  come  out  of  it  with  joy ! 

Whoso  the  Holy  Place  would  enter  in 

Must  pray  and  fast :  must  pray  for  steadfast  grace 
To  turn  from  all  that  hides  the  Father's  face  ; 

Must  fast  from  every  sweet  that  tends  to  sin. 

O  God,  whose  blessed  Son  became  obedient  to  the  law  for  man, 
and  underwent  hunger  and  thirst  in  doing  Thy  will  and  fulfilling  all 
righteousness,  give  me  grace  in  all  patience  and  temperance  so  to 
bear  and  forbear,  that  my  flesh  being  subdued  to  the  spirit,  I  may 
ever  obey  Thy  holy  guidance  and  control,  in  all  righteousness,  purity 
and  soberness  ;  Who  art  our  Father  and  our  King,  world  without 
end.     Amen. 


^bnreba^  after  Hsb^Mebnceba^^ 

Behold,  the  Lord's  hand  is  not  shortened,  that  it  cannot  save  ; 
neither  His  ear  heavy,  that  it  cannot  hear :  but  your  iniquities  have 
separated  between  you  and  your  God,  and  your  sins  have  hid  His 
face  from  you. — Is.,  lix.,  i,  2. 

If  I  regard  iniquity  in  my  heart,  the  Lord  will  not  hear  me. — Ps., 
Ixvi.,  i3. 

The  belief  that  God  will  hear  our  petitions  and 
confidences  Hes  deeper  in  our  souls  than  we  imag- 
ine. .  .  .  And  so  we  want  to  know  when  it  is 
that  God  will  not  hear.  The  hindrance  must  be  in 
the  man — that  we  are  sure  of.  .  .  .  It  is  not 
anything  in  God.  Here  is  the  great  love  of  the 
Father.  Here  is  the  Heart  that  broods  over  His 
children  with  unutterable  love.  How  alert  that 
divine  ear  is  to  listen,  none  of  us  can  know.  It 
does  not  need  a  formal  prayer ;  the  most  stumbling 
and  broken  cry — a  sigh,  a  whisper,  anything  that 
tells  the  heart's  loneliness  and  need  and  penitence 
— can  find  its  way  to  Him.  It  cannot  possibly 
escape  Him,  any  more  than  the  humblest  flower, 

7 


8  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

lying  close  to  the  ground,  can  escape  the  all-seeking, 
all-finding  mercy  of  the  sunlight.  Nay,  not  so 
much  as  a  whisper  nor  a  sigh  is  needed.  A 
thought,  a  wish.  He  hears  it;  a  longing  to  be  bet- 
ter, a  longing  to  be  free,  the  feeblest  flutter  of  a 
soul's  love,  His  soul  discovers.  His  ear  is  never 
heavy,  that  it  cannot  hear.  If  any  of  us  seem  to 
cry  and  not  be  heard,  the  fault  is  in  our  cry,  and 
not  in  Him  :  let  us  believe  that  always,  O  my 
friends  ! 

But  still,  "  If  I  regard  iniquity  in  my  heart,  the 
Lord  will  not  hear  me."  What  strikes  us  in  the 
condition  which  David  describes  is  its  deliberate- 
ncss.  It  is  not  something  into  which  a  man  may 
fall,  out  of  weakness,  and  almost  without  knowing 
it.  To  **  regard  iniquity  "  is  a  voluntary  act.  .  .  . 
The  man  or  woman  chooses  the  sin,  and  chooses  to 
cling  to  it.  The  deliberateness  may  cloak  itself  and 
try  to  pass  for  a  necessity.  You  may  lay  the  blame 
on  circumstance,  on  temperament,  on  education,  on 
almost  anything;  but  all  the  time  down  at  the  bot- 
tom of  your  heart,  in  the  moment  when  you  are 
sincerely  honest,  you  know  which  are  the  sins  you 
choose,  which  are  the  sins  to  which  you  open  the 
gate.  You  can  tell  them  by  a  certain  confidence  in 
their  step  as  they  enter  and  walk  through  the  streets 


THURSDAY  AFTER  ASH-WEDNESDAY.  9 

of  your  heart;  they  are  different  from  those  that 
have  climbed  in  over  the  unguarded  wall. 

There  is  indeed  something  in  the  most  obstinate 
and  wilful  soul  that  God  can  hear.  There  is  no  man 
so  far  from  God,  so  utterly  indifferent,  that  God 
does  not  hear  the  appeal  of  his  indifference  itself 
calling  out  to  Him  for  pity  and  awakening.  But 
this  is  not  the  true  communion  of  the  soul  with 
God.  That  communion  is  broken  by  a  man's  delib- 
erate choice  and  preference  of  sin,  as  it  is  not  by  his 
feebleness  and  passionate  yielding  to  temptation. 
.  .  .  In  the  one  case,  you  have  the  feeble  soul — 
wofully  feeble — falling  headlong  into  sin,  and  yet 
hating  its  sin  and  crying  out  for  escape ;  and  in  the 
other,  the  steady,  deliberate  transgressor  looking 
sin  in  the  face  and  choosing  it — deliberately  wicked, 
regarding  iniquity  in  his  heart.  That  makes  the 
difference.  Therefore  it  is  that  Jesus  stoops  and 
gathers  up  the  Magdalen's  wretched  life,  that  He 
draws  the  publican  into  His  spiritual  life  and  makes 
an  Apostle  of  him,  that  he  chooses  St.  Peter  for  His 
most  trusted  servant,  and  that  He  sweeps  Sadducees 
and  Pharisees  indignantly  away. 

We  are  God's  children.  We  are  made  for  God. 
Between  His  nature  and  our  nature  there  is  an 
essential,    everlasting   union.      He  will   enter   into 


lO  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

communion  with  any  soul  that  will  receive  Him. 
Only  sin  has  the  power  to  break  the  sympathy 
between  the  child  and  the  Father,  and  send  a  sor- 
row to  the  Father's  heart,  a  sorrow  as  of  bereave- 
ment of  His  best-beloved,  and  to  send  the  child  out 
into  the  desolateness  of  an  orphaned  life. 

Do  you  not  know  what  I  am  trying  to  describe  so 
feebly  ?  Have  you  never  felt  sure  that  sin  was 
harming  you  not  merely  by  what  it  made  you  do, 
but  by  what  it  made  you  lose  ?  There  was  a  life 
with  God,  of  which  men  told,  of  which  something 
in  your  own  heart  assured  you  of  the  possibility  and 
the  beauty,  from  which  you  knew  you  were  shut 
out,  not  because  of  any  unwillingness  of  God,  but 
simply  because  of  the  life  you  were  living. 

Years  and  years  ago  the  whole  story  was  told  by 
Jesus  in  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son.  He 
never  was  turned  out  of  his  father's  house.  A 
thousand  slips  and  faults  of  his  boyhood  did  not 
separate  him  from  his  father  so  long  as  his  heart  was 
true  and  loyal.  Only  when  he  rebelled  and  went 
away,  his  father  could  not  follow  him,  except  with 
love.  Only  as  long  as  he  stayed  away,  his  father, 
however  much  he  loved  him,  could  not  be  with  him. 
But  the  moment  he  returned,  the  house  was  opened, 
the  feast  was  spread,  the  communion  was  reestab- 


THURSDAY  AFTER  ASH-WEDNESDAY.  II 

lished.  **  While  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off,  his 
father  saw  him."  Tliere  is  no  more  to  tell  than 
that.  A  thousand  sermons,  a  thousand  Lents, 
could  tell  no  more.  God  zvill  hear  as  soon  as  He 
can  hear.  It  is  man's  obstinacy,  not  God's  reluc- 
tance, that  keeps  back  the  mercy. 

There  are  two  certainties  which  come  fr€)m  all  of 
this.  They  are  the  truths  you  need  for  Lent. 
First:  if  you  are  not  wilful,  God  will  hear  you.  It 
is  deliberate  sin,  a  sin  that  hugs  itself  and  is  not 
willing  to  give  itself  up,  that  shuts  the  door  of  spir- 
itual Hfe,  and  hides  the  Saviour  from  the  soul.  If 
you  are  sure  (and  of  this  much  you  may  be  sure) 
that  this  is  not  in  you,  if  you  are  sure  that,  weak  as 
you  are,  you  still  do  not  love  your  sin,  but  hate  it, 
you  do  not  cling  to  it  but  long  to  get  away  from  it ; 
then  you  may  look  up  with  the  fullest  confidence  to 
a  hearing  God.  Second  :  that  if  whatever  difficulty 
lies  between  our  souls  and  God  comes  out  of  our 
wills,  then  it  is  in  the  power  of  those  wills  to  break 
through  the  difBculty  and  find  God  where  He 
waits  behind  It.  If  we  can  seek  death,  we  can  also 
seek  life.  There  is  no  man  so  bad  but  the  same 
power  of  self-will  that  chose  his  badness  might  also 
have  chosen  goodness, — nay,  may  choose  it  still. 
The  gate  stands  open  wide.      Repentance  certainly 


12  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

will  find  forgiveness.  A  turning  to  God  will 
surely  find  Him  waiting.  "  Every  one  that  asketh 
receiveth,  and  he  that  seeketh  findeth,  and  to  him 
that  knocketh  it  shall  be  opened."  Let  us  pray  : 
"  So  give  now  unto  us  who  ask;  let  us  who  seek, 
find;  open  the  gate  to  us  who  knock." 

Thus  day  and  night  they  are  pressing  nigh, 
With  tears  and  sighs,  to  the  heavenly  Gate, 

Where  the  Watchman  stands  in  His  majesty, 

With  a  patience  that  never  has  said,  "  Too  late." 

Let  the  sorrowful  children  of  want  and  sin 
Draw  near  to  the  Gate,  whence  none  depart ; 

Let  the  nations  arise  and  enter  in, 

For  the  Lord  is  willing,  with  all  His  heart. 

Lord  Jesus,  Who  camest  from  heaven  to  earth  to  call  us,  wean  us 
from  earth  that  we  may  ascend  to  Thee  in  heaven.  Thou  leftest 
heaven  for  love  of  us  :  forbid  it  that  we  should  not  leave  anything 
or  everything  for  love  of  Thee.  Thou  sinless  camest  into  contact 
with  sin  for  us  ;  enable  us  for  love  of  Thee  to  repent  and  sin  no 
more.     Amen. 


ffri&a?  after  'RQly^'McMcet^a^. 

And  He  said  unto  them,  "Have  ye  not  heard  what  David  did 
when  he  was  an-hungred  ;  .  .  .  how  he  entered  into  the  house 
of  God,  and  did  eat  the  shewbread,  which  was  not  lawful  for  him  to 
eat,  neither  for  them  which  were  with  him,  but  only  for  the  priests?  " 
— Matt,,  xii.,  3,  4. 

A  THOUSAND  years,  and  more,  had  passed  after 
the  bright  morning  when  David  came  up  to  the 
Temple-gate  at  Nob,  and  Jesus  Christ  found  use  for 
the  old  story  to  illustrate  what  He  wanted  His  dis- 
ciples to  understand  in  their  bewilderment.  They 
had  taken  the  ears  of  corn  out  of  the  cornfield  on 
the  Sabbath  day,  which  were  to  the  ears  of  corn 
which  rustled  carelessly  in  the  wind  on  other  days 
of  the  week  what  the  loaves  of  shew-bread  were  to 
the  loaves  sold  by  the  bakers  in  the  shops,  and 
Jesus  justified  them  ;  He  reached  back  into  the 
past,  and  justified  David  a  thousand  years  before. 
He  at  least  would  have  nothing  too  sacred  for  its 
use.  To  Him  at  least  the  more  sacred  anything 
was,  the  more  fit  and  ready  should  it  be  to  minister 

13 


14  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

to  man's  most  common  need.  ...  It  was  for 
the  honor  of  the  shew-bread  that  David  insisted 
that  it  should  not  fail  of  its  purpose,  and  lie  useless 
on  its  golden  table  while  a  man  was  standing  hungry 
at  the  door.  It  was  for  the  honor  of  the  Sabbath 
that  Jesus  rebuked  that  false  care  for  its  dignity 
which  would  not  rob  the  wheat-stalks  on  this  one 
day  of  the  purpose  of  their  life. 

It  is  the  portion  and  duty  of  every  man  who 
knows  himself  to  be  the  child  of  God  to  claim  the 
highest  and  divinest  of  his  Father's  helps  for  all  his 
most  immediate  and  ordinary  needs.  What  a  great 
thing  life  would  become  if  we  did  that  !  .  .  . 
You  get  discouraged.  The  task  of  the  hour  seems 
too  heavy.  That  awful  blight  of  sordidness  falls  on 
everything,  and  makes  nothing  seem  worth  while. 
The  whole  degenerates  into  a  terrible  machine. 
The  dust  and  clatter  fill  the  air  with  tumult  and 
oppression.  And  men  pity  you.  They  see  the 
weariness  and  sadness  in  your  face ;  they  try  to 
cheer  you  up ;  they  offer  you  distractions.  They 
dole  out  to  you  bits  of  philosophy.  .  .  .  And 
all  the  time  there  lies  the  shew-bread, — there  on  its 
golden  table  lies  the  sacred  food  which  we  think  we 
must  not  touch  for  common  wants  like  these  ! 
There  are  the  truths  which  we  believe  were  made  to 


FRIDAY  AFTER  ASH-WEDNESDAY.  I  5 

feed,  like  precious  fragrant  oils,  the  flames  of  the 
most  ecstatic  ambitions  and  the  great  attempts  of 
inspired  sanity,  the  supreme  efforts  of  the  supremest 
moments  of  men's  lives.  They  are  the  truths  that 
we  are  all  of  us  God's  children;  that  every  soul  is 
made  for  purity  and  has  no  right  to  sin ;  that  no 
soul  can  do  its  duty  anyzvhere  without  a  thrill  of 
richer  life  running  through  all  the  world.  These 
are  the  shew-bread  truths.  What  have  our  poor 
depressions  and  discouragements  and  cowardices  and 
failures,  our  little  tasks  and  commonplace  existences 
to  do  with  truths  like  these  !  We  may  starve,  but 
we  must  not  touch  the  shew-bread ;  it  is  not  lawful 
for  us,  but  only  for  the  priests  ! 

0  my  dear  friends,  when,  with  an  instinct  as  true 
as  David's,  we  can  let  our  souls  say,  **  We  Jiave  a 
right,  the  least  need  of  the  least  child  of  God  has 
a  right  to  the  very  sacredest  and  highest  of  his 
Father's  truth ;  my  little  tasks,  the  little  tasks 
even  of  my  little  life,  claim  the  divinest  inspirations 
which  the  martyrdoms  and  the  crusades  of  the  most 
splendid  souls  require," — the  moment  we  are  bold 
enough  for  that,  the  shew-bread  almost  leaps  from 
the  table  to  our  hungry  life,  and  the  true  Priest  of 
God,  Christ  Himself,  presses  it  into  our  hands. 

1  call  Christ  the  Priest,  and  so  He  is,  but  He  is 


l6  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

also  the  very  Shew-bread  of  Humanity  Himself. 
And  has  not  the  wonder  of  His  offered  presence  in 
the  world  been  this, — that  He  has  wakened  the 
David-instinct  in  countless  souls  ?  He  has  made 
common  men  feel  that  their  common  hunger  gave 
them  a  true  claim  on  Him,  a  claim  which  He  would 
own.  No  Christ  for  priests  and  heroes  only  has  He 
been,  but  rather  a  Christ  who  made  a  possible  hero 
or  priest  of  every  man ;  and  taught  the  world  that 
no  struggle  after  righteousness  was  so  obscure,  and 
no  search  after  truth  was  so  blind  and  stumbling, 
that  it  might  not  call  on  the  Eternal  Righteousness 
and  the  Eternal  Truth,  and  be  sure  that  they  would 
hear  the  cry.  All  hunger  knows  its  right  to  the 
Bread  of  Life.     .     .     . 

There  are  the  higher  and  the  lower  realms  of  life ; 
— alas  for  us  if  we  deny  the  difference  between  the 
hunger  of  the  body  and  the  hunger  of  the  soul,  and 
let  ourselves  think,  or  teach  others  to  think,  that 
the  messages  and  impartations  of  God  which  come 
through  the  one  have  the  same  richness  and  blessed- 
ness with  those  which  come  through  the  other. 
But,  notwithstanding  this  is  so, — nay,  all  the  more 
because  it  is  so, — we  need  to  recognize  and  say  that 
the  lower  life  is  God's,  and  that  He  cares  for  it, 
and  that  He  uses  it  as  truly  as  the  higher.     .     ,     . 


FRIDAY  AFTER  ASH-WEDNESDAY.  1/ 

When  you  come  down  from  the  summits,  you  do 
not  come  away  from  God.  There  is  no  task  of  life 
in  which  you  do  not  need  Him.  The  Nation  is  as 
truly  His  as  the  Church.  The  work-bench  needs 
His  light  as  truly  as  the  cloister.  .  .  .  The 
temples  will  not  be  less  but  more  sacred  when  the 
sacredness  of  the  shop  and  field  are  cordially  and 
thankfully  acknowledged.  The  shew-bread  will  be 
more  holy  when  it  has  proved  that  it  is  not  too 
holy  to  feed  the  hunger  of  a  hungry  man.  The 
highest  reaches  of  religious  speculation  and  religious 
rapture  will  reach  higher  still  when  religion  has  been 
claimed  by  the  commonest  duties  and  the  most  sor- 
did sufferings  of  life  as  their  only  strength  and  help. 
What  is  the  issue  of  it  all  for  us  ?  God  hasten 
the  day  when  the  world  shall  freely  use  the  divinest 
powers  for  its  commonest  tasks  !  When  that  day 
comes,  the  Millennium  is  here.  The  world  waits 
for  that  day.  But  we  need  not  wait.  For  each  of 
us  that  day  may  come  now.  Do  not  delay  until 
some  need  worthy  of  God  shall  seem  to  make  it 
possible  for  you  to  come  to  Him  !  All  needs  need 
Him.  Come  with  the  needs  you  have.  Let  them 
claim  Him.  Through  His  supply  of  them  He  will 
awaken  higher  needs;  and  so,  at  last,  little  by  little, 
He  will  fulfil  you  with  Himself. 

8 


1 8  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

The  little  sharp  vexations, 

And  the  briars  that  catch  and  fret, 
Why  not  take  all  to  the  Helper 

Who  has  never  failed  us  yet  ? 
Tell  Him  about  the  heartaches, 

And  tell  Him  the  longings,  too  ; 
Tell  Him  the  baffled  purpose, 

When  we  scarce  know  what  to  do. 
Then,  leaving  all  our  weakness 

With  the  One  divinely  strong, 
Forget  that  we  bore  the  burden. 

And  carry  away  the  song. 

O  Lord  our  only  Saviour,  we  cannot  bear  any  burden  worthily 
without  Thee  ;  upbear  us  under  them  all.  We  look  without  seeing 
unless  Thou  purge  our  sight ;  grant  us  sight.  Nothing  can  we  do 
unless  Thou  prosper  us  ;  oh,  prosper  Thou  our  handiwork.  We  are 
weak  ;  out  of  weakness  make  us  strong.  We  believe  ;  help  Thou 
our  unbelief.  We  hope  ;  let  us  not  be  disappointed  of  our  hope. 
We  love  ;  grant  us  to  love  much,  to  love  all,  and  most  of  all  to  love 
Thee.     For  Thy  Name's  sake.     Amen. 


Saturba^  after  Heb^Mebneeba^^ 

A  good  man  out  of  the  good  treasure  of  the  heart  bringeth  forth 
good  things  ;  and  an  evil  man  out  of  the  evil  treasure  bringeth  forth 
evil  things. — Matt.,  xii.,  35. 

For  whosoever  hath  to  him  shall  be  given  ;  but  whosoever  hath  not, 
from  him  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he  seemeth  to  have. — 
Luke,  viii.,  18. 

The  idea  that,  out  of  the  mass  of  influences 
about  us  the  good  character  appropriates  the  ele- 
ments which  belong  to  it  so  that  it  becomes  even 
better,  and  the  bad  character  appropriates  its  own 
elements  and  becomes  even  worse, — that  seems  to 
me  to  be  one  of  the  most  profoundly  impressive 
declarations  of  what  essentially  different  things  the 
good  and  evil  are.  I  take  two  seeds  which  look  so 
much  alike  that  only  the  skilled  eye  can  tell  the 
difference  between ;  I  plant  them  side  by  side  in  the 
same  soil;  immediately  each  of  them  sends  out  its 
summons ;  each  demands  of  the  ground  the  elements 
of  growth  which  its  peculiar  nature  craves.  The 
earth  hears  and  acknowledges    the  summons,   and 

19 


20  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

renders  up  to  each  what  it  demands.  So  two  men 
who  seem  just  aHke  are  set  down  in  the  same  city; 
instantly  to  one  there  fly  all  the  influences  of  good, 
to  the  other  there  gather  all  the  powers  of  evil,  that 
pervade  that  city's  life.  Or  into  a  man's  life  is 
dropped  a  purpose ;  that  purpose  instantly  declares 
its  character  by  the  way  in  which  it  divides  the 
forces  of  his  life.  If  it  is  good,  it  calls  all  that  is 
good  within  him  or  around  him  to  its  aid.  All  that 
is  noble  gives  its  strength  willingly  to  this  new, 
feeble  plan ;  all  that  is  sluggish,  base,  selfish,  in  his 
nature  or  his  circumstances,  sets  itself  against  his 
desire.  It  is  in  such  discriminations  that  the  essen- 
tial differences  of  the  quaUties  of  the  good  and  bad 
display  themselves.  In  the  least  atom  of  good  there 
lies  a  power  to  attract  goodness  and  repel  wicked- 
ness. In  the  least  atom  of  wickedness  there  lies  a 
power  to  repel  the  good  and  attract  the  bad.  That 
is  the  qualitative  power  of  moral  natures.  Ah, 
when  we  think  how  everywhere  we  are  imposed 
upon  by  quantity,  do  we  not  need,  do  we  not  wel- 
come, this  strong  statement  that  the  real  power  of 
things  lies  in  their  qualities,  in  what  they  really  are 
whether  there  be  much  of  them  or  little  ? 

We  need  to  learn,  when  we  hear  Christ  insisting 
on   repentance,    on  love  for   Himself,    on  love  for 


SATURDAY  AFTER  ASH-WEDNESDAY.  21 

fellow-man,  on  devoted  work,  that  His  desire  is, 
first  of  all  and  deepest  of  all,  for  the  qualities  of 
those  things.  He  wants  a  real  repentance,  a  real 
love,  a  real  devotion.  If  He  sees  reality,  we  can 
well  understand  how  He  can  be  infinitely  patient 
with  littleness.  For  where  He  stands  eternity  is 
all  in  sight;  He  sees  forever;  He  knows  through 
what  summer  of  cloudless  sunshine  the  least  grace 
will  have  time  to  ripen  to  the  richest.  He  knows 
in  what  rich  fields  the  seed  will  find  eternal  lodg- 
ment. So  there  is  time  enough,  if  only  the  seed  is 
real.  If  it  is  not  real,  eternity  is  not  long  enough 
nor  heaven  rich  enough  to  bring  it  to  anything. 

How  impressive  this  is  in  the  story  of  Christ's 
earthly  life  !  How  patient  He  was  with  imperfec- 
tion !  How  intolerant  of  unreality  !  He  could 
wait  for  a  publican  while  he  unsnarled  himself  out 
of  the  meshes  of  his  low  vocation,  but  He  cut  with 
a  word  like  a  sword  through  the  solemn  trifling  of 
the  Pharisees.  He  never  was  impatient  with  His 
disciples.  Their  graces  were  very  small,  but  they 
were  real.  Eternity  was  long,  and  He  could  wait 
till  the  graces  which  He  saw  to  be  real  opened  into 
all  the  possibility  which  He  discerned  in  them,  till 
the  Peter  who  paraded  his  genuine  but  feeble  reso- 
lution of  devotion  at  the  Supper  grew  to  be  the 


22  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Peter  who  could  die  for  Him  at  Rome,  and  live  with 
Him  in  some  high  doing  of  His  will  in  heaven. 

It  is  good  for  us  if  we  can  treat  ourselves  as  our 
Lord  treats  us.  Try  to  find  out  if  your  repentance 
for  sin  is  real — a  genuine  sorrow  for  a  wrong  life. 
If  it  is,  no  matter  if  it  falls  short  of  the  complete 
contrition  which  you  picture  to  yourself,  still  keep 
it,  hold  it  fast ;  do  not  let  it  slip  away  and  drop  back 
into  the  placid  content  which  you  felt  before  you 
were  penitent  at  all.  So  with  your  love  to  your 
Saviour;  do  not  throw  it  away  because  it  is  not  that 
large-winged  devotion  which  soars  up  into  the  very 
sunshine  of  His  closest  Company.  Keep  it.  Feed 
it  on  all  you  know  of  Him.  Never  trifle  with  it,  or 
surround  it  with  any  unreality  of  profession,  merely 
to  try  to  make  it  seem  larger  than  it  is.  Reverence 
it,  not  because  it  is  great  enough  to  be  worthy  of 
Him,  but  because  for  such  a  being  as  you  are  to 
love  such  a  Being  as  He  is  at  all,  is  a  sublime  act — 
the  glorification  of  your  nature  and  the  promise  of 
infinite  growth. 

In  the  truth  which  Jesus  taught,  then,  in  the 
proverb  which  was  so  often  on  His  lips,  there  still 
lies  the  warning  and  the  inspiration  that  He  put 
there.  It  is  the  truth  of  a  live  world,  a  world  so 
full  of  life  that  into  it  nothing  can  fall  without  par- 


SATURDAY  AFTER  ASH-WEDNESDAY.  23 

taking  of  its  life, — a  world   that  makes  the  good 
better  and  the  bad  worse  always. 

If  the  world  is  making  us  worse,  then  not  to 
change  the  world  but  to  be  changed  ourselves  is 
what  we  need.  We  must  be  regenerate  by  Christ, 
and  then  the  world  shall  become  His  school-room, 
by  all  its  ministries  bringing  us  more  and  more  per- 
fectly to  Him.  May  He  give  us  His  new  life,  that 
the  world  may  become  new  to  us  ! 

Unto  him  that  hath  Thou  givest 

Ever  more  abundantly. 
Lord,  I  live  because  Thou  livest, 

Therefore  give  new  life  to  me  ; 
Therefore  speed  me  in  the  race  ; 
Therefore  let  me  grow  in  grace. 

Let  me  grow  by  sun  and  shower. 

Every  moment  water  me  ; 
Make  me  really  hour  by  hour 

More  and  more  conformed  to  Thee, 
That  Thy  loving  eye  may  trace, 
Day  by  day,  my  growth  in  grace. 

Let  me  then  be  always  growing. 

Never,  never  standing  still  ; 
Listening,  learning,  better  knowing 

Thee  and  Thy  most  gracious  will. 
Till  I  reach  Thy  Holy  Place, 
Daily  let  me  grow  in  grace. 


24  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

O  Gracious  God,  Who  maketh  all  things  to  work  together  for  the 
good  of  them  that  love  Thee,  grant  me  such  love  to  Thee  that  I  may 
find  the  good  in  all  Thy  gifts  and  creatures,  and  use  all  to  Thy 
glory ;  Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


jfiret  Sunba^  in  %cnt 

Then  was  Jesus  led  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness,  to  be 
tempted  of  the  devil. — Matt.,  iv.,  i. 

For  we  have  not  an  High  Priest  who  cannot  be  touched  with  the 
feeling  of  our  infirmities,  but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we 
are. — Heb.,  iv.,  15. 

No  adoption  of  any  strict  rule  of  life,  no  separa- 
tion of  ourselves  from  a  certain  region  of  dangerous 
occupations,  sets  us  free  from  the  persecution  of 
temptation.  We  are  tempted  to  sin  everywhere. 
It  is  pathetic,  almost  terrible,  to  think  how  long 
this  has  been  going  on.  Through  all  these  weary 
years  which  it  tires  us  to  think  of,  they  have  been 
so  many;  through  all  these  monotonous  generations 
that  we  hear  flowing  on  endlessly  through  the  cav- 
ernous depths  of  history,  as  one  listens  to  a  stream 
dropping  down  monotonously  forever  underground ; 
through  all  the  years  and  generations  of  human  life, 
men  have  been  tempted, — not  one  that  ever  lived 
did  not  meet  this  persistent,  intrusive  enticement  to 
sin. 

S5 


26  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

And  now,  what  effect  has  this  temptation  of  our 
Lord  upon  this  strange,  universal  experience  of 
men  ?  The  man  who  has  seen  Christ  will  not  be 
found  explaining  temptation  away.  He  will  not 
delude  himself  with  vain  hopes  of  living  a  smooth, 
untempted  life.  He  will  read  in  the  temptation  of 
the  Perfect  Life  that  that  is  impossible  forever  for 
any  man.  When  he  is  depressed  and  hungry  and 
exhausted,  he  will  look  for  the  devil  as  his  Lord 
did ;  and  when  he  sees  him  coming,  when  he  hears 
his  words  and  feels  the  desire  of  sin  stirring  in  his 
heart,  he  will  not  say,  "  Oh,  this  is  nothing  but  one 
stage  of  my  grow^th !  ' ' — he  will  recognize  the  old 
enemy  of  his  Master  coming  for  the  old  battle,  and 
pray  for  his  Master's  strength  in  the  hour  of  terrible, 
inevitable  struggle. 

But  .  .  .  shall  men  go  on  courting  tempta- 
tions, finding  them  out,  and  running  into  them,  so 
that  they  may  come  out  glorious  and  strong  ? 
Look  at  Christ's  temptation.  There  is  one  phrase 
that  lights  up  the  whole  story, — Christ  was  "  led  up 
of  the  Spirit  to  be  tempted  of  the  devil."  He  had 
a  certain  work  to  do.  That  work  was  not  His  own, 
but  was  His  Father's.  His  Father's  Spirit  guided 
Him,  and  told  Him  how  to  do  it.  For  some  reason 
(who  but  that  Spirit  can  say  wholly  what  ?)  it  was 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  LENT.  27 

necessary  that  He  should  meet  the  devil  in  the  wil- 
derness. Therefore  the  Spirit  led  Him  there,  and, 
filled  with  the  Spirit  all  the  time  that  He  was  there, 
He  came  down  safe  and  glorious.  We  too  have  a 
work,  a  duty.  Our  Father  gives  it  to  us  as  His 
Father  gave  His  to  Jesus.  In  doing  our  duty  the 
Spirit  of  our  Father  may  often  lead  us  into  tempta- 
tion, but  if  He  really  leads  us  there  He  will  protect 
us  there.  If  He  does  not  lead  us,  if  we  go  of  our 
own  self-will,  we  have  no  pledge  of  His  protection. 
We  leave  at  the  door  the  Guide  whose  company  is 
safety. 

The  first  temptation  is  told  thus:  "And  when  the 
tempter  came  to  Him,  he  said,  If  Thou  be  the  Son 
of  God,  command  that  these  stones  be  made  bread. 
But  He  answered  and  said,  It  is  written,  Man  shall 
not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  pro- 
ceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God."  .  .  .  And 
there  was  the  hunger  gnawing  all  the  while  and  say- 
ing "  Am.en  "  to  the  devil's  words.     .     .     . 

Do  you  not  see  what  the  temptation  was  and 
what  it  is  forever  ?  O  my  dear  friend,  God  made 
these  things,  and  made  you  to  live  by  them,  but  not 
by  them  alone.  Go  on;  gather  the  joy  out  of  the 
earth  and  sky,  out  of  the  bread  He  gives  you  power 
to  win,  out  of  the  water  that  He  made  to  gush  at 


28  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

your  feet ;  only,  when  the  time  comes — as  it  is  sure 
to  come  some  time,  as  perhaps  it  is  to  come  now — 
when,  in  order  to  speak  some  word  out  of  His 
mouth  to  you,  some  word  of  duty  or  charity  or  hoH- 
ness.  He  takes  these  things  away,  and  you  are 
tempted  to  shut  your  ears  to  His  word  in  order  that 
you  may  keep  these  pleasant  things, — then  you  are 
just  where  Jesus  was — the  devil  is  at  your  ear. 
May  God  help  you  to  see  just  what  Jesus  saw — • 
what  He  said  afterward,  perhaps  remembering  His 
own  temptation:  "  The  life  is  more  than  meat." 
May  he  help  you  to  say,  "  No !  Nothing — not  even 
His  gifts — shall  blind  or  deafen  me  to  Him.  Man 
shall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  out 
of  the  mouth  of  God  " — the  blessed  sacrifice  of 
sense  to  spirit. 

Do  we  know  anything  about  [the  second]  tempta- 
tion ?  .  .  .  If  ever,  in  any  way,  the  thought 
of  spiritual  privilege  has  tried  to  draw  us  away  from 
the  everlasting,  central  thought  of  duty,  the  abso- 
lute necessity  of  faithfulness  and  watchfulness;  if 
ever,  in  order  to  realize  God  more  completely,  you 
have  been  tempted  to  go  out  of  the  path  of  simple 
duty  where  He  has  set  you, — it  has  been  Christ's 
temptation  over  again. 

And  was  it  [the  third]  a  temptation  ?     Did  Jesus 


FIRST  SUNDAY  IN  LENT.  29 

want  those  kingdoms  and  their  glory  ?  Surely  He 
did.  He  had  come  to  win  them,  He  had  come  to 
purchase  them  with  His  own  precious  blood.  He 
stood  with  His  heart  full  of  blessings  and  the  world 
would  not  take  them.  He  wanted  that  world  that 
He  might  pour  His  blessings  in  and  upon  it.  .  .  . 
If  you  have  ever  had  a  friend  whom  with  the  purest 
sympathy  and  love  you  longed  to  bless  and  help, 
who  shut  himself  against  you ;  and  if  the  time  has 
come  when  you  have  seen,  or  thought  you  have 
seen,  just  how,  by  one  wrong  act,  by  one  concession 
to  his  standards,  by  one  compliance,  you  could  get 
the  access  to  him  that  you  wanted ;  if  then  all  your 
love  for  him  has  poured  in  its  influence  to  make  you 
do  that  wrong  thing,  then  you  know  of  what  sort 
this  last  temptation  was.  How  it  touched  Jesus  to 
the  quick  we  can  see  in  the  intensity  of  the  indigna- 
tion with  which  He  turned  against  it.  **  Get  thee 
hence,  Satan!"  He  cries  out.  This  temptation  had 
come  nearer  to  His  heart  than  any  of  the  others. 

There  will  come  a  world  where  there  will  be  no 
temptation — a  garden  with  no  serpent,  a  city  with 
no  sin.  The  harvest  day  will  come  and  the  wheat 
will  be  gathered  safe  into  the  Master's  barn.  It  will 
be  very  sweet  and  glorious.  Our  tired  hearts  rest 
on  the  promises  with  peaceful   delight.     But  that 


30  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

time  is  not  yet.  Here  are  our  tempted  lives;  and 
here,  right  in  the  midst  of  us,  stands  our  tempted 
Saviour.  If  we  are  men,  we  shall  meet  temptation 
as  He  met  it,  in  the  strength  of  the  God  who  is  the 
Father,  of  whom  all  men  are  children.  Every  temp- 
tation that  attacks  us  attacked  Him  and  was  con- 
quered. We  are  fighting  a  defeated  enemy.  We 
are  struggling  for  a  victory  which  is  already  won. 
That  may  be  our  strength  and  assurance  as  we 
recall,  whenever  our  struggle  becomes  hottest  and 
most  trying,  the  wonderful  and  blessed  day  when 
Jesus  was  **  led  up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness 
to  be  tempted  of  the  devil." 

Distrust  thyself,  but  trust  His  strength, 

In  Him  thou  shalt  be  strong  ; 
His  weakest  ones  may  learn  at  length 

A  daily  triumph-song. 
Distrust  thyself,  but  trust  alone 

In  Him,  for  all,  for  ever  ! 
And  joyously  thy  heart  shall  own 

That  Jesus  faileth  never. 

O  God,  Who  has  set  us  our  work  to  do  in  life,  give  us  grace  to  do 
it  in  and  for  Thee.  Grant  that  no  temptation  of  this  present  evil 
world  may  lead  us  to  forget  that  Thee,  and  Thee  only,  we  must 
serve  in  all  things  ;  Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


flDon&a^  after  tbe  f iret  Sun&a?* 

I  am  come  that  they  might  have  life,  and  that  they  might  have  it 
more  abundantly. — John,  x.,  io. 

Among  all  the  words  of  Jesus,  I  do  not  know 
where  we  shall  find  larger  words  than  these.  They 
are  very  primitive  and  fundamental.  They  go  back 
to  the  very  beginning  and  purpose  of  His  presence 
on  the  earth.  "  What  art  Thou  here  for,  O  won- 
derful, mysterious,  bewildering  Christ?"  **  I  am 
here  that  men  may  have  life  more  and  more  abun- 
dantly." Could  words  go  farther  back  than  that  ? 
Behind  all  special  things  which  He  wanted  men  to 
do  and  be,  behind  all  the  great  lessons  which  He 
wanted  men  to  learn,  He  wanted  men,  first  of  all, 
to  live.  .  .  .  It  is  deficient  vitality,  not  exces- 
sive vitality,  which  makes  the  mischief  and  trouble 
of  the  world.  ...  Do  we  not  know  that  there 
are  certain  persons  in  the  world  whose  recognizable 
purpose  and  ofifice  it  is  to  increase  the  amount  of 
this  vitality  of  life  in  the  regions  where  they  have 

31 


32  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

been  set  ?  In  every  circle  or  community  where 
you  have  ever  lived  has  there  not  been  some  man 
whom  you  knew  as  a  life-giver  ?  He  may  or  may 
not  have  been  a  learned  man  who  gave  definite 
instruction,  but  he  increased  vitality.  He  caused 
men  to  do  their  best.  He  quickened  languid 
natures.  He  made  the  streams  run  full.  He  called 
the  dead  to  life.  Such  men  are  everywhere.  That 
which  makes  them  memorable  is  that  beside  or 
through  their  special  faculty,  they  have  this  uni- 
versal, elemental  power, — they  create  condition  in 
other  men.  You  can  say  nothing  more  of  such  a 
man  than  this — he  is  the  life-giver.  He  comes  and 
things  have  life. 

When  we  have  realized  such  a  man  as  that,  and 
seen  just  what  he  is  in  the  great  world,  we  have 
come  where  we  can  understand  Christ  and  see  just 
what  was  the  meaning  of  His  self-description. 
Sometimes  people  count  up  Christ's  acts  and  stand 
with  the  little  group  of  jewels  in  their  open  hands, 
looking  at  them  with  something  like  puzzled  won- 
der, and  saying,  **  Is  this,  then,  all  that  He  did  ?" 
Other  people  gather  Christ's  words  together,  and 
feel  through  all  their  beauty  a  bewildering  sense 
that  they  do  not  fully  account  for  the  marvellous 
power  of  His  life.     But  sometimes  there  comes  a 


MONDAY  AFTER  THE  FIRST  SUNDAY.  33 

truer  apprehension.  The  things  He  did,  the  things 
He  said,  were  only  signs  and  indications  of  what  He 
was.  He  was  not  primarily  the  Deed-Doer  or  the 
Word-Sayer;  He  was  the  Life-Giver.  He  made 
men  live.  Wherever  He  went  He  brought  vitality. 
Both  in  the  days  of  His  incarnation  and  in  the  long 
years  of  His  power  which  have  followed  since  He 
vanished  from  men's  sight,  His  work  has  been  to 
create  the  conditions  in  which  all  sorts  of  men 
should  live.  He  hated  death.  He  hates  death 
everywhere.  He  took  men  in  Jerusalem  and  poured 
in  behind  their  torpid  faculties  the  fiery  vitality 
that  stung  them  all  to  life.  This  was  His  redemp- 
tion of  mankind.  Whatever  else  came  from  His 
words  and  actions,  everywhere  this  was  true, — men 
lived  by  Him.  **  Ye  will  not  come  unto  me  that 
y^  might  have  life,"  was  His  cry  of  keen  momen- 
tary disappointment.  "  He  that  eateth  me  the 
same  shall  live  by  me,"  was  His  consummate  defini- 
tion of  His  power.  At  the  head  of  all  life-givers 
stands  the  life-giving  Son  of  Man. 

And  see  how  perfectly  clear  is  His  conception  of 
the  zvay  in  which  He  is  to  give  life  to  men,  to  com- 
plete the  vitality  of  the  world.  It  is  not  by  stirring 
up  the  powers  of  each  individual,  as  if  each  carried 

his  vitality  lodged  within  himself,  and  could  live  as 
3 


34  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

an  Independent  unit  of  life.  There  is  a  great  Reser- 
voir and  Source  of  life  with  which  each  being  is  to 
be  brought  into  contact,  into  which  each  being  is  to 
be  bound,  so  that  Its  vitality  can  be  poured  through 
the  channels  of  the  bound,  the  related,  the  conse- 
crated, the  religious  being.  This  is  Christ's  splendid 
doctrine  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God.  He  realized  it 
first  in  Himself.  He  was  the  Son  of  God.  His  life 
was  God's  life.  What  He  would  do  for  every  man 
was  to  set  that  man's  nature  into  the  Divine  Nature 
so  that  the  Divine  Life  could  live  in  it.  He  would 
put  the  star  into  the  system ;  He  would  put  the  tree 
into  the  soil; — nay,  His  own  figure  alone  tells  the 
story, — "  No  man  cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by 
me."  "  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the 
Father," — so  He  is  always  saying. 

The  necessity  of  life ! — how  all  the  cautious  theo- 
ries deny  that  principle.  "  Too  much  life  is  dan- 
gerous,"— so  runs  the  conscious  or  unconscious 
thought  of  hosts  of  frightened  men.  "  Let  life  be 
limited.  You  must  not  think  too  much ;  you  must 
not  act  too  venturously;  safety  lies  In  the  limitation 
of  vitality."  Against  this  comes  the  calm  word  of 
Jesus.  "  Nay,  live  your  fullest.  The  full  life  is 
the  only  safe  life.  Danger  comes  not  by  excess, 
but  by  defect  of  vitality.     But  you  live  fully  only 


MONDAY   AFTER  THE   FIRST  SUNDAY.  35 

when  you  live  as  a  part,  not  as  a  whole.  To  try  to 
live  as  a  whole  is  to  limit  and  starve  your  life.  .  .  . 
Set  your  mind  close  to  the  Eternal  Unity  of  truth, 
and  hold  it  there  until  the  two  grow  together  and 
the  truth  that  is  universal  and  eternal,  the  truth  that 
is  God,  flows  into  you.  and  you  live  by  it."  That 
is  Christ's  urgency  of  faith  which  is  also  hope  and 
love.  .  .  .  Life  is  not  life,  freedom  is  not  free- 
dom, unless  the  live  thing  is  set  in  the  ground  of  its 
true  nourishment,  and  keeps  open  the  connection 
with  the  Eternal  Source  of  its  strength.  Man  is  not 
living  except  as  he  lives  in  God. 

Everything  best  which  comes  into  the  world  as  it 
is  now,  opens  some  glimpse  of  that  complete  world 
which  shall  be,  .  .  .  of  the  new  heavens  and 
the  new  earth  which  are  to  be  radiant  and  strong 
with  the  vitality  which  is  by  obedience ;  where  peace 
and  power  and  growth  shall  know  no  disturbance 
and  no  hindrance.  What  is  it  but  the  sight  which 
the  Apostle  saw  ? — the  great  city,  the  holy  Jerusa- 
lem, descending  out  of  heaven  from  God,  having 
the  glory  of  God:  "And  there  shall  in  nowise 
enter  into  it  anything  that  defileth,  neither  what- 
soever worketh  abomination  or  maketh  a  lie;  but 
they  which  are  written  in  the  Lamb's  Book  of 
Lifer 


56  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

A  lovely  City  in  a  lovely  land, 

Whose  citizens  are  lovely,  and  whose  King 

Is  Very  Love  ;  to  Whom  all  angels  sing  ; 
To  Whom  all  saints  sing  crowned,  their  sacred  band 
Saluting  Love  with  palm-branch  in  their  hand    .     ,     , 
A  bower  of  roses  is  not  half  so  sweet, 

A  cave  of  diamonds  doth  not  glitter  so. 
Nor  Lebanon  is  fruitful  set  thereby  : 
And  thither  thou,  beloved,  and  thither  I 

May  set  our  heart  and  set  our  face,  and  go 
Faint  yet  pursuing  home  on  tireless  feet. 

Glory  to  God  for  all  His  goodness,  in  all  things,  and  to  all  men, 
everywhere,  and  forever. 

Glory  to  Him  from  the  perfect  and  unspotted  dwellers  in  heavenly 
light ;  glory  to  Him,  in  our  measure,  from  us  unworthy  and  humble, 
sitting  under  their  feet. 

Holy,  Holy,  Holy,  unsearchable  in  eternity,  Father  of  all  men, 
and  Life-Giver  forever. 

O  Lord  of  Life  and  Love,  take  hold  of  us  with  unseen  fingers,  till 
we  stretch  forward  all  together  to  life  everlasting.     Amen. 


trueeSai?  after  tbe  firat  Sunba?* 

He  that  believeth  in  Me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live. — 
John,  xi.,  25. 

The  life  which  Christ  gives  is  the  awakening  and 
inspiring  of  every  part  of  our  nature  through  the 
power  of  Christ,  made  our  power  by  obedient  love. 
Love,  then,  for  Him,  is  the  essence  of  the  life  He 
gives.  "  He  that  beheveth  on  me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  he  shall  live," — that  He  promises  of  this 
life  as  well  as  of  the  next.  It  is  all  one  with  Him. 
And  the  power  of  belief  is  love.  What  then  ? 
Love  is  of  necessity  a  gradual  and  growing  thing, 
and  the  love  of  the  Infinite  is  an  infinite  thing.  If 
the  Hfe  that  Christ  gives  were  something  else  than 
what  it  is,  it  might  perhaps  be  given  all  in  an  instant, 
and  be  at  once  complete.  The  fetters  are  struck  off 
of  a  prisoner's  limbs,  and  with  the  hammer's  blow  he 
is  completely  free.  The  doors  of  a  banquet  cham- 
ber are  flung  open,  and  with  one  burst  of  light  and 
music  the  guest  is  entirely  w^elcome.  But  a  trans- 
forming Love,  that  takes  our  nature  and  spreads  it 

37 


38  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

through  the  very  substance  of  another  nature — tJiat 
cannot  be  an  instantaneous  thing.  It  may  begin  in 
an  instant, — one  look  into  the  face  of  Jesus  and  the 
love,  at  that  first  sight,  may  start,  and  begin  to  send 
His  life  into  our  deadness.  But  as  infinite  as  what 
He  has  to  give,  must  be  our  reception  of  it.  How  the 
soul  glories  in  this  truth  when  it  has  learned  it !  It 
is  reconciled  to  its  manifest  imperfections  while  it 
yet  dares  to  aspire  to  absolute  perfectness.  It  finds 
itself  all  full  of  sin,  and  yet  dares  to  call  itself  a  child 
of  God.  It  lies  as  the  pebble  lies  on  the  shore,  and 
feels  in  the  wave  that  wets  it  now  only  the  promise 
and  potency  of  the  unmeasured  ocean  whose  murmur 
it  hears  stretching  back  into  infinity.  The  soul 
which  knows  that  it  loves  Christ  hears  all  Christ's 
nature  promising  Itself  to  it  just  as  fast  and  just  as 
fully  as  it  can  receive  it.      It  is  an  endless  life. 

The  only  qualification  and  limit  to  this  must  be 
in  man's  ability  to  receive  the  life  of  Christ.  But 
the  wish  of  Christ  to  give  Himself  to  man  involves 
also  the  nature  of  the  man  to  whom  He  gives  Him- 
self. "  I  am  come  that  they  might  have  life,"  He 
said.  That  life  was  His  life;  He  felt  it  in  Himself, 
felt  its  infinity.  And  as  He  came,  He  saw  the  men 
that  He  was  coming  to;  He  saw  all  that  was  base 
about  them,   saw  how  superficial  and  how  shallow 


TUESDAY  AFTER  THE   FIRST   SUNDAY.  39 

they  were.  He  saw  them  filled  with  sin  through 
the  love  of  sin,  and  yet  He  said,  "  I  am  coming  to 
give  them  Myself  through  the  love  of  Me,  to  give 
them  Myself  deeper  and  deeper,  little  by  little,  until 
they  shall  have  received  Me  perfectly."  Look  what 
a  faith  in  the  possibilities  of  human  nature  the 
Incarnation  implied !  Just  when  man  was  most  bit- 
terly despairing  of  himself,  Christ  came  with  His 
bewildering  promise  of  the  divine  life  for  man.  Just 
when  men  seemed  to  be  proving  how  fertile  their 
human  nature  could  be  in  evil,  Christ  came  and 
claimed  that  the  same  fertility  might  overrun  with 
harvests  of  life  instead  of  harvests  of  death, — that  a 
world  which  could  be  bad  could  also  be  infinitely 
good. 

The  faith  of  Christ  in  man — that  is  what  is  written 
in  the  Incarnation !  The  faith  of  Christ  in  you  or 
me — that  is  what  is  written  in  the  visit  of  Christ  to 
you  or  me  when,  coming  and  standing  directly 
across  our  path  of  wickedness  and  death,  He  says 
to  us  calmly  and  surely,  "  I  am  come  that  you 
might  have  life,  the  life  of  holiness  which  is  by  love 
of  Me."  Christ  sees  a  man  in  sin,  and  says,  "  Every 
power  which  that  man  sins  with  he  might  be  holy 
with.  Every  faculty  he  serves  the  devil  with,  he 
might  serve  Me  with.     With  all  the  richness  with 


40  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

which  he  is  wicked  he  might  be  good.  I  will  go 
and  put  Myself  into  his  life,  and  its  vigorous  vitality, 
taking  hold  of  Me,  a  little  at  first,  shall  possess  Me 
more  abundantly  till  I  have  transformed  it  to  My- 
self.** Christ's  call  to  a  man  to  be  converted  is  the 
sublimest  testimony  to  the  essential  capacity  of 
human  life.  And  yet  men  talk  as  if  the  great  reve- 
lation of  the  Gospel  were  how  wicked  man  is,  and 
not  how  good  he  may  become  !  The  Gospel  has 
nothing  to  do  with  sin  except  to  forgive  it,  and  to 
find  in  its  luxuriance  the  promise  of  what  luxuri- 
ant growth  goodness  might  come  to  in  that  same 
human  nature.  The  farmer  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  weeds  except  to  pluck  them  out  and  to  believe 
that  his  wheat  will  grow  more  richly  in  ground  that 
could  make  the  weeds  so  rich.  When  will  men  set 
their  hearts  free  to  believe  that  Jesus  meant  exactly 
what  He  said  when  He  stood  in  the  temple,  in  His 
Passion  Week,  and  cried,  '*  I  came  not  to  judge  the 
world,  but  to  save  the  world  ?  " 

Not  to  judge  you,  but  to  save  you,  does  Christ 
come  now,  O  my  dear  friend !  You  have  heard  of 
Him  all  your  life.  You  have  seen  Him  far  away. 
Oh,  if  to-day  He  could  meet  you  where  you  could 
not  escape  Him,  and  in  the  power  of  His  meekness 
compel  you  to  face  Him!     You  are  afraid,  for  you 


TUESDAY  AFTER  THE   FIRST   SUNDAY.  4 1 

have  heard  that  He  is  terrible  in  His  hatred  of  sin ; 
but  the  first  words  that  He  says  are,  "  I  am  come 
not  to  judge  you,  but  to  save  you."  And  the 
offer  of  salvation  makes  you  feel  your  sin  far  more 
keenly  than  any  threat  of  punishment  could.  He 
goes  on,  "  I  am  come  that  you  might  have  life  "  ; 
and  under  that  promise  you  feel  for  the  first  time 
how  dead  you  have  been.  And  yet  once  more — 
"  That  you  might  have  it  more  abundantly  "  ;  and 
then  Eternity  opens  before  you  with  its  picture  of 
your  poor  soul  made  conscious  of  its  vast  capacity, 
for  ever  receiving  new  depths  and  riches  of  its  Lord, 
who,  to  all  eternity,  shall  never  weary  of  bestowing 
Himself  upon  it. 

He  liveth,  and  we  live  ! 

His  life  for  us  prevails  ! 
His  fulness  fills  our  mighty  void, 

His  strength  for  us  avails. 

Life  worketh  in  us  now, 

Life  is  for  us  in  store  ; 
So  death  is  swallowed  up  of  life ; 

We  live  forevermore. 

O  my  God,  who  hast  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  him  that  dieth, 
save  me  from  the  death  of  sin  ;  and  when  this  life  is  fulfilled,  bring 
me  to  the  life  everlasting  :  Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Life.     Amen. 


Mebneeba^  after  tbe  ifir^t  Sunba?* 

Your  sons  and  your  daughters  shall  prophesy,  your  old  men  shall 
dreams  dreams,  your  young  men  shall  see  visions. — Joel,  ii.,  28. 

That  which  these  three  words — prophecy,  dream, 
and  vision — represent,  is  felt  by  every  considerate 
and  large-minded  man  to  be  a  true  and  necessary 
element  of  life.  We  may  call  it  spirituality,  enthu- 
siasm, spontaneity,  outlook,  insight, — many  names 
will  do, — but  what  we  mean  by  all  of  them  is  essen- 
tially the  same.  It  is  the  power  to  see  the  element 
of  eternal  principles  in  which  things  live, — to  see  the 
way  in  which  each  fact  and  act  is  a  true  wave  on 
the  great  ocean  of  infinity,  to  see  all  life  full  of  the 
life  of  God, — and  so  to  lose  the  sense  of  hardness 
and  mechanicalness  and  separateness  in  the  things 
which  happen  and  the  things  we  do.  We  know  how 
difficult  that  is ;  we  know  how  even  the  things  which 
seem  to  be  by  very  nature  spiritual,  and  so  least 
capable  of  such  degeneration,  become  mechanical. 
Worship    and  charity  and  faith  harden  themselves 

42 


WEDNESDAY   AFTER  THE   FIRST   SUNDAY.       43 

Into  machines;  their  Hfe  grows  dull  and  stagnant. 
Oh,  for  a  prophet,  we  cry,  to  plunge  down  to  the 
principles  of  things,  and  make  them  live  with  some 
true  reason  for  being  done !  Oh,  for  a  dream  to 
soften  this  hard  outline,  and  make  it  richly  blend 
with  universal  life  and  catch  its  value!  Oh,  for  a 
vision  which  shall  glorify  the  dull  present  with  the 
sight  of  its  own  splendid  possibilities!  "  Where 
there  is  no  vision,  the  people  perish,"  said  Solomon. 
It  was  his  assertion  of  the  necessity  of  the  inspired 
and  spiritual  element  in  life.  The  prophet,  the 
vision,  and  the  dream  are  as  needful  to  the  active 
life  as  the  fountain  to  the  stream,  or  as  the  bloom 
to  the  fruit,  or  as  the  fragrance  to  the  flower,  or  as 
the  soul  to  the  man. 

And  there  Is  where  appears  the  glory  and  great- 
ness of  religious  life  .  .  .  because,  filling  life 
with  itself,  it  opens  the  gates  of  the  mystery  of 
life,  makes  it  conscious  of  great,  gracious,  awful 
relationships,  and  turns  every  true  believer  into 
something  of  a  seer.  And  it  is  religion  as  a  r6'/a- 
tio7isJiip  that  fills  the  soul  with  vision.  Have  you 
not  seen  it  ?  The  martyr  goes  singing  to  the  stake ; 
it  is  as  if  he  walked  hand-in-hand  with  his  beloved 
Christ,  being  led  by  Him  into  the  very  presence  of 
the  Father.     The  poor  working  woman  sits  with  her 


44  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

Bible  on  her  knees,  and  the  grim,  dingy  walls  of  her 
cabin  expand  and  fade  away,  the  worn  face  glows 
and  softens  into  the  beauty  of  an  ageless  youth,  and 
the  feet  which  an  hour  ago  could  just  drag  them- 
selves home  over  the  sidewalk  from  her  long  day's 
toil,  are  walking  lightly  with  Christ  beside  the  tree- 
shaded  River  of  the  water  of  life.  It  is  a  great  rela- 
tionship, a  great  Love  in  which  her  soul  is  bathing. 
May  that  be  the  religion  and  the  power  of  the  re- 
ligion of  us  ail  ! 

The  gxQdit  purpose  and  the  great  results  of  actions 
make  dreams  and  visions  for  the  souls  of  men, 
which  are  always  waiting  to  reveal  themselves.  .  .  . 
Here  is  the  same  action  done  by  two  men  working 
side-by-side.  One  does  it  wdth  delight,  perhaps,  in 
its  details,  perhaps  only  with  monotonous  reitera- 
tion of  a  long  habit.  The  other  does  precisely  the 
same  thing  because  some  great  affection  sent  him  to 
it, — his  family  needed  the  bread  that  he  could  earn, 
or  he  wanted  to  send  his  boy  to  college. 
To  one  the  iron  which  he  strikes  and  the  hammer  he 
strikes  with,  are  all.  To  the  other  each  spark  from 
the  anvil  kindles  to  a  picture ; — he  sees  the  hungry 
faces  at  his  home ;  he  sees  the  thirst  for  knowledge 
in  his  boy's  eyes.  The  act  stands  with  its  sluice- 
gates open  towards  the  hills,  and  down  from  them 


WEDNESDAY  AFTER  THE  FIRST  SUNDAY.       45 

comes  pouring  the  torrent  of  will  and  motive  that 
makes  the  wheels  of  the  actions  turn  to  music. 
Suppose  that  every  act,  Httle  or  great,  which  men 
are  doing,  were  thus  filled  with  conscious  motive, — 
mere  dead  habit  exorcised,  spontaneity  and  freedom 
and  reasonable  service  everywhere, — would  it  not  be 
another  world  than  this — that  world  in  which  the 
prophecy  should  be  fulfilled,  and  the  old  men  should 
dream  dreams  ? 

Still  it  would  be  a  question  how  far  back  each 
dreamer's  dream  should  go,  into  what  regions  of 
memory,  what  depth  of  first  forces,  it  should  be 
strong  enough  to  carry  him.  We  know  where  his 
who  was  most  adventurous  and  profound  must  carry 
him ;  it  could  stop  nowhere  short  of  God.  God  is 
the  only  final  dream  of  man.  Door  after  door 
opens ;  there  is  no  final  chamber  till  we  come  where 
He  sits.  All  that  ought  to  be  done  in  the  world  has 
a  right  to  know  itself  finally  as  done  for  Him. 

Then,  there  is  the  other  side,  what  perhaps  is 
more  fitly  called  the  vision, — by  which  we  mean  the 
look  forward  into  the  results  of  things.  Yet  this 
vision-seeing  power,  like  the  dream-dreaming  power, 
completes  and  rounds  itself  in  God.  Many  magnifi- 
cent and  fascinating  pictures  open  themselves  before 
the  seer  of  visions  as  he  anticipates  what  the  great 


46  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

redeemed  and  perfected  world  some  day  will  be; — 
civilizations,  institutions,  education,  forms  of  soci- 
ety, types  of  character, — all  these  in  manifold, 
entrancing  beauty  fill  the  western  sky,  but  they  all 
get  their  radiance,  as  they  get  their  unity,  from 
God.  The  western  sky  has  clouds  of  infinitely  va- 
rious glory,  but  the  one  source  and  centre  of  the 
glory  is  the  sun. 

Is  not  this  the  Vision  of  visions,  the  Vision  in 
which  all  other  visions  are  enfolded  ?  Man  shall 
find  God;  the  imperfect  shall  come  to  perfection; 
the  part  shall  rest  itself  in  the  whole ;  the  child  shall 
come  to  the  Father's  house.  In  many  forms,  in 
many  colors,  that  is  the  vision  which  keeps  the 
world's  fainting  heart  alive,  and  makes  the  earth, 
through  all  its  years  of  sorrow,  rich  with  an  under- 
treasure  of  perpetual  joy. 

When  Jesus  is  going  to  wash  His  disciples'  feet  at 
the  Last  Supper,  it  is  said  that  He  does  this  action 
knowing  that  "  He  came  from  God  and  went  to 
God."  What  words  are  these  !  "  He  came  from 
God  and  went  to  God," — are  not  the  dream  and  the 
vision  there,  the  God  behind  Him  and  the  God 
before  ?  No  wonder  that  the  act  has  lived  and  been 
a  power! 

Now,  there  are  men  who,  at  least  sometimes,  do 


WEDNESDAY   AFTER  THE   FIRST   SUNDAY.       47 

actions  as  Christ  did  that,  knowing  that  they  come 
from  God  and  go  to  God.  You  say  they  are  excep- 
tions !  That  is  just  what  the  Bible  says, — **  Among 
whom  ye  shine  as  Hghts  in  the  world."  .  .  . 
Here  is  the  strength  of  this  great  prophecy ;  the 
thing  it  prophesies  is  already  on  the  earth.  It 
shines  in  many  an  exalted  soul.  It  shines  supremely 
in  Jesus.  It  has  not  to  be  created  as  something 
new;  it  has  to  be  spread  abroad,  so  that  all  men, 
women,  and  children  shall  be  sharers  in  it.  The 
light  is  here ;  some  day  it  is  to  lighten  ever}.'  man. 
That  is  the  glory  of  possibility  which  fills  our  proph- 
ecy. That  gives  us  the  opportunity  of  enthusiastic 
hope. 

Thus,  with  somewhat  of  the  Seer, 
Must  the  moral  pioneer 

From  the  Future  borrow. 
Clothe  the  waste  with  dreams  of  grain, 
And  on  midnight's  skies  of  rain 

Paint  the  golden  morrow. 

O  Thou  who  inhabitest  Eternity,  yet  art  nigh  to  them  that  seek 
Thee  ;  grant  me  by  Thy  grace  to  do  all  things  as  seeing  Thee  who 
art  invisible,  and  to  carry  through  things  temporal  such  inspiring 
thoughts  of  things  eternal,  that  I  may  finally  come  to  Thy  everlasting 
glory  :  Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


^bure&a?  after  tbe  jfiret  Sun&a^- 

In  the  way  of  righteousness  is  life.— Prov.,  xii.,  21. 
If  thou  wilt  enter  into  life,  keep  the  commandments. — Matt.» 
xix.,  17. 

It  is  striking,  when  we  see  how  Christianity  has 
been  the  awakener  of  thought  and  the  stimulator  of 
activity  in  all  time,  to  look  back  to  Christ  and  see 
that  there  is  not  a  word  in  all  His  teaching  to  urge 
men  directly  to  think,  or  to  exhort  them  to  indus- 
try in  common  things.  There  is  no  sign  in  what  He 
distinctly  said  that  He  cared  for  thought  or  activity 
for  themselves.  Men  say  He  did  not  care  for  them 
at  all.  .  .  .  But  He  did  cdiXQ.  Only,  He  knew 
that,  as  the  old  proverb  of  His  people  ran,  "  Out 
of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life,"  and  that  only  by 
having  the  heart  alive  (and  by  a  live  heart  He  meant 
a  good  heart)  could  true  hfe,  permanent,  reliable 
life,  come  to  the  thinking  brain  and  toiling  hands. 
Therefore  He  bent  His  whole  care  over  the  heart. 
**  Is  this  man  alive  ?  "     He  laid  His  hand  upon  the 

48 


THURSDAY  AFTER  THE   FIRST   SUNDAY.         49 

heart  to  see  whether  it  was  beating,  whether  the 
man  was  trying  to  be  good.  "  Is  this  man  dead  ?  " 
Again  He  laid  His  finger  on  the  heart,  and  so  long 
as  there  was  a  flutter  there,  so  long  as  He  felt  under 
His  sensitive  touch  the  longing  to  be  good  yet  trem- 
bling in  the  breast.  He  said,  "  This  man  still  lives; 
and  all  awakening  of  the  cold  extremities,  all  quick- 
ening of  intellect  is  still  possible  with  him."  He 
did  care;  He  does  care  still  whether  you  and  I  are 
thoughtful  and  skilful, — no  gain  of  ours  that  is  not 
joy  to  our  loving  Lord.  But  He  sees  divinely  that 
all  thought  and  skill  must  get  value  and  real  life 
only  from  goodness;  and  on  that  His  eye  is  fast- 
ened, and  His  care  is  lavished.  .  .  .  This  is  no 
theory.  It  is  the  law  which  experience  has  proved. 
It  is  a  law  in  whose  light  we  can  read  most  intelli- 
gently the  whole  strange  history  of  our  human 
nature.  Wherever  goodness  has  been  the  most 
positive  and  most  coveted  possession  of  humanity, 
in  that  age,  in  that  land,  humanity,  taken  as  a 
whole,  has  been  most  thoroughly  and  systematically 
alive. 

We  here  In  America  have  one  great,  good  char- 
acteristic :  we  hate  torpidity.     We  glory  in  vitality. 
A  "  live  man  "   is   an   American    eulogy. 
But  who  is  the  "  live  man  "  in  whom  our  America 


50  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

delights  ?  If  I  find  that  the  finger  of  popular  admi- 
ration (which  has,  be  it  remembered,  a  terribly 
strong  influence  to  carry  02ir  admiration  with  it) 
points  to  the  dashing  speculator,  or  to  the  scheming 
and  overbearing  politician,  or  to  the  wanton  thinker 
ever  ready  to  confound  the  faith  of  men  with  his 
half-thought  theories,  w^hich  he  does  not  really 
believe  himself, — if  it  points  to  these  and  says, 
"  There  is  life  "  ;  then  we  need  to  go  back  with  all 
the  conscience  and  reverence  in  our  souls,  and  hear 
Christ  saying,  "  I  am  come  that  they  might 
have  life."  If  He  came  to  give  life,  then  these 
are  not  life,  for  He  came  to  give  none  of  these 
things. 

Oh!  let  us  keep  the  great,  joyous  love  of  vitality 
which  is  the  glory  of  our  land  and  time,  but  let  us 
insist  on  looking  deep  enough  for  it.  The  *'  live 
man"  is  not  the  man  whom  men  are  praising  for 
his  energy  ;  very  often  he  is  the  deadest  of  the  dead, 
and  what  men  call  his  life  is  only  the  putrefaction 
of  his  moral  nature.  The  **  live  man  "  is  the  man 
who  loves  goodness  and  desires  it  for  himself  and 
his  brethren,  and  lets  his  love  go  out  into  effort 
wherever  it  gets  a  chance.  **  If  a  man  love  Me,  he 
will  keep  my  Avords,  and  my  Father  will  love  him, 
and  we  will  come  unto  him  and  make  our  abode 


THURSDAY   AFTER  THE   FIRST   SUNDAY.  5 1 

with  him," — there  was  Christ's  idea  of  a  live  man — 
the  Hfe  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man. 

Let  no  other  life  delude  us.  Let  us  feel  Him 
standing  with  His  hand  upon  our  hearts,  and  know 
that  He  thinks  nothing  of  any  life  that  He  does  not 
feel  beating  there  with  the  steady  pulse  of  love  for 
holiness  and  Him. 

How  know  I  that  I  am  alive  ? 

So  only  as  I  thrive 
On  truth,  whose  sweetness  keeps  the  soul 

Vigorous  and  pure  and  whole  ; 
Heaven's  breath  within  is  immortality, — 
The  life  that  is,  and  evermore  shall  be. 

O  Christ,  Who  art  the  Fountain  of  life,  grant  that  we  thirst  after 
no  life  that  is  not  life  in  Thee,  but  that  we  strive  ever  to  follow  the 
steps  of  Thy  most  holy  life,  that  so  we  may  glorify  Thee,  and  finally 
attain  to  everlasting  life.     Amen. 


Jfribai?  after  tbe  firat  Sunba^. 

For  by  one  offering  He  hath  perfected  for  ever  them  that  are 
sanctified. — Heb.,  x.,  14. 

That  through  death  He  might  destroy  him  that  had  the  power  of 
death,  that  is,  the  devil.— Heb.,  ii.,  14. 

Does  that  mean  that  we  have  not  to  fight  with 
sin,  because  Christ  has  fought  with  it  ?  Or  does  it 
mean  that  His  fighting  with  sin  shows  us  how  to 
fipfht  with  it  and  be  successful  ?  Does  it  not  mean 
both  ?  Is  there  not  a  double  vicariousness, — a 
vicariousness  of  substitution,  and  a  vicariousness  of 
illustration  ?  When  the  Lord  goes,  in  our  place, 
into  the  midst  of  sin,  into  the  jaws  of  death,  it  is 
as  when  a  brave  guide  climbs  before  a  party  of 
travellers  up  the  face  of  a  steep  wall  of  ice,  which 
they  must  all  mount  after  him.  He  goes  for  them, 
not  for  himself.  If  he  were  going  for  himself  alone, 
some  venturous  spring  in  what  is  for  them  an  impos- 
sible place  might  set  him  in  a  moment  on  the  ridge 
they  have  to  reach,  but  he  goes  in  a  way  where  they 
can  follow  him.     And  as  he  goes  he  does  two  things 

52 


FRIDAY  AFTER  THE   FIRST  SUNDAY.  53 

for  them :  First,  he  cuts  down  certain  hindrances 
over  which  he  has  to  clamber,  so  that  when  they 
come  they  do  not  have  to  clamber  over  them ;  and, 
second ,  he  shows  them  the  way  to  climb  the  steep= 
est  places,  and  cuts  them  footsteps  in  the  ice  so  that 
they  may  be  able  to  go  where  he  has  gone.  He 
cries  out  to  his  poor,  timid  followers,  "  This  thing 
you  need  not  do,  for  I  have  done  it";  and  at 
other  times  he  cries,  "  This  thing  you  shall  be  able 
to  do,  for  I  have  done  it." 

Is  it  not  so  with  Jesus  and  what  He  did  for  us  ? 
There  are  some  burdens  of  sin  which  no  soul  need 
ever  bear,  because  of  what  the  Saviour  has  already 
borne.  There  is  a  terror  in  death  which  we  need 
never  know,  because  He  has  died.  There  are  some 
depths  of  darkness  into  which  we  look,  but  into 
which  we  need  never  descend,  because  He  went 
so  deep  for  us  into  the  mysterious  pain  of  life  and 
death.  Some  clouds  scatter  as  we  approach  them 
when  we  challenge  them  in  the  name  of  "  His 
Agony  and  Bloody  Sweat,  His  Cross  and  Passion, 
His  Precious  Death  and  Burial."  And  then  there 
are  other  clouds,  sufferings,  fears,  temptations, 
doubts,  which  do  not  scatter;  into  them  we  have  to 
walk.  But  into  them  we  know  how  to  walk  because 
He  has  already  walked  there.     It  is  not  a  trackless 


54  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

waste ;  the  wisdom  and  the  strength  come  from  our 
Lord. 

I  think  that,  as  the  disciples  came  back  from  the 
Cross,  and  as  they  went  on  into  their  Hfe,  they  must 
have  become  richly  aware  of  how  in  both  these  ways 
their  Lord  had  died  for  them.  There  were  battles 
which  they  need  not  fight  because  He  had  fought 
them ;  there  were  other  battles  which  they  must 
fight  all  the  more,  but  in  which  they  certainly  would 
be  victorious  because  of  His  victory.  Oh,  that  you 
and  I  could  see  that  there  are  some  darkest  strug- 
gles from  which  we  are  forever  released  and  ex- 
empted by  His  struggle !  there  are  doubts,  torments, 
agonies,  which  He  underwent  once  for  all,  and  we 
may  pass  them  with  unwounded  feet  and  thankful 
hearts,  as  men  walk  free  and  happy  over  a  battle- 
field where  once  their  liberties  were  won,  in  a  long, 
horrible  day  of  fight  and  blood.  Those  burdens  we 
are  not  to  carry;  that  fight  is  not  to  be  fought  out 
again. 

And  there  are  other  struggles  which  we  must 
meet, — fights  with  our  sins,  struggles  to  be  pure, 
and  brave,  and  true,  and  kind,  and  holy.  From 
those  He  cannot  save  us.  The  shadow  of  His 
Cross,  falling  on  them,  is  not  obliteration  but  inspi- 
ration.    We  cannot  be  spared  the  doing  of  them  by 


FRIDAY   AFTER   THE   FIRST   SUNDAY.  55 

Him,  but  we  can  do  them  by  Him,  and  that  is  better. 
See  how  complete  is  the  salvation  of  the  Cross  for 
the  man  who  is  rescued  from  every  suffering  his  soul 
can  spare,  and  strengthened  for  every  suffering  and 
duty  that  his  soul  needs,  by  the  Crucified  Christ! 
By  one  sacrifice  He  hath  perfected  forever  them  that 
should  be  sanctified. 

By  that  one  sacrifice!  Such  is  the  mystery  of 
tireless  Grace  and  Love.  It  seems  so  far  off,  that 
Cross  of  Jesus,  and  it  really  is  so  near!  For  it  is 
lifted  up  so  high  that  the  waves  of  time  roll  un- 
heeded and  unmeaning  at  its  foot.  It  is  the  power 
of  perfection  for  us  to-day.  We  too  may  cast  at  its 
foot  the  burdens  and  the  sufferings  which  we  need 
not  keep,  because  our  Lord  has  taken  them ;  and  in 
its  light  we  may  renew  the  fight  with  sin  which  we 
must  fight,  from  which  we  cannot  escape,  but  in 
which  we  shall  surely  conquer  because  our  Lord  has 
conquered.  No  soul  ought  to  be  carrying  any 
weight  or  trouble  which  really  is  its  Lord's,  or  to  be 
discouraged  in  any  task  or  trouble  which  is  really  its 
own. 

The  herb  that  brings  forgetfulness, 

And  makes  all  wounds  grow  whole, 
And  sends  God's  peace  to  soothe  and  bless 

The  hopeless  travailing  soul, 


$6  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT    LIFE. 

And  has  immortal  power  to  still 
The  fiercest  wind  and  tide, 
Springs  at  the  foot  of  that  dark  hill 
Where  Christ  was  crucified. 

O  Blessed  Saviour,  Who  cam  est  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil, 
suffer  not  devil,  world,  or  flesh  to  destroy  us  ;  neither  suffer  ourselves 
to  destroy  ourselves.  Give  us  grace  to  do  what  we  can  to  help  our- 
selves, and  of  Thy  free  grace  do  Thou  for  us  and  in  us  what  we 
cannot.     For  Thy  mercy's  sake.     Amen. 


Satur&a?  after  tbe  flret  Sunbai?* 

What  I  tell  you  in  darkness,  that  speak  ye  in  light. — Matt., 
X.,  27. 

Who  does  not  long  to  speak  words  that  shall  be 
like  sunbeams,  opening  and  illuminating  every  cor- 
ner of  a  hearer's  life  ?  But  when  we  look  at  our 
own  selves,  when  we  see  how,  the  more  we  learn  of 
truth,  the  more  the  vastness  of  what  we  do  not 
know  opens  before  us,  we  are  set  to  wondering  how 
it  is  possible  that  out  of  such  darkness  light  can 
come.  The  duty  of  giving  clear  light  grows  no  less 
imperative,  but  we  marvel  how  we  are  to  give  to 
others  what  we  do  not  find  in  ourselves,  how  it  is 
possible  to  fulfil  the  commission,  "  What  I  tell  you 
in  darkness,  that  speak  ye  in  light." 

Yet  this  duty  of  speaking  in  the  light,  of  bringing 
truth  clearly  to  other  souls  than  our  own,  belongs 
to  every  one  of  us,  and  every  one  meets  the  same 
question, — "  How  shall  I  speak  in  light  that  which 
God  speaks  to  me  in  darkness?"     Just  see  what 

57 


58  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

the  illustrations  are.  Here  is  a  mother  to  whom  a 
child  is  looking  with  the  implicit  faith  of  childhood. 
To  him  she  is  infallible.  He  has  a  faith  in  her  which 
never  questions;  and  day  by  day  he  walks  in  the 
clear  light  that  her  words  give  him.  The  difference 
of  right  and  wrong,  the  lines  of  what  he  must  do  and 
must  not  do,  the  truth  of  God,  the  truth  of  Christ, 
the  other  world  that  is  to  come, — it  is  the  light  from 
her  teachings  that  falls  on  all  of  these  and  makes 
them  truth  to  him.  And  yet  how  many  a  time  the 
mother,  with  her  deeper  thought,  has  felt  in  what  a 
darkness  it  was  that  God  spoke  to  her  what  she 
spoke  to  her  boy  in  such  light,  how  much  of  mystery 
there  was  enveloping  all  that  she  made  so  plain  to 
him !  Or  take  some  man  in  the  community  who  is 
always  a  source  of  light  to  all  his  fellow-citizens. 
His  words  cast  their  illumination  over  every  sub- 
ject. .  .  .  But  do  we  think  that  every  con- 
viction leaped  in  a  moment  to  his  consciousness, 
that  it  is  not  by  some  transmission  through  his 
experience,  often  clouded  with  dust,  that  the 
abstract  truth  has  passed  into  the  clear,  sharp, 
tangible  statement  of  duty  which  his  fellows  catch 
from  him  ? 

We  believe  that,  however  inadequate  our  state- 
ment of  the  truth  may  be,  still  it  is  true ;  and,  bear- 


SATURDAY   AFTER  THE   FIRST   SUNDAY.  59 

ing  its  inadequacy  always  in  our  mind,  \vc  still  have 
such  a  knowledge  as  may  serve  for  a  law  of  life  and 
lead  us  towards  the  fuller  apprehension, — such, 
therefore,  as  we  may  rejoice  to  teach  our  brethren. 
For  is  there  any  knowledge  that  is  perfect  ? 
Is  it  not  true  of  every  knowledge  which  we  have 
that  its  best  statements  are  but  imperfect  formulas 
which  represent  afar  off  what  we  by  no  means 
wholly  know  ?  And  yet  upon  these  knowledges  we 
act,  and  by  our  faithful  use  of  them  are  always  com- 
ing nearer  to  the  perfect  knowledge.  The  seaman 
knows  but  the  beginning  of  the  mysteries  of  winds 
and  waves,  and  yet,  using  the  knowledge  which  he 
has,  he  steers  his  ship  across  the  ocean  to  the  harbor 
on  the  other  side.  The  statesman  learns  in  dark- 
ness the  dark  principles  of  national  life,  and  yet  out 
of  that  darkness  he  brings  certain  laws  of  govern- 
ment, and  guides  his  people  into  brighter  and 
brighter  light.  So  everywhere  we  act  upon  imper- 
fect knowledge,  which  is  true  as  far  as  it  goes,  and 
correctly  though  inadequately  represents  the  perfect. 
And  so  wdth  Christ, — who  of  us  claims  to  know  His 
nature  wholly  ?  I  know  that  when  we  come  to 
heaven,  we  shall  see  Him  as  we  do  not  see  Him 
now ;  but  yet  the  Christ  we  know  now  is  the  true 
Christ,    though  not  the  whole  Christ.     I   am  sure 


6o  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

that  it  is  right  for  me  to  love  and  trust  Him  as  if  I 
knew  Him  perfectly.  ...  I  see  the  reasonable- 
ness of  the  principle  which  He  Himself  has  laid 
down — that,  by  the  obedience  and  love  of  what  we 
know  already,  we  may  always  be  led  into  the  knowl- 
edge of  far  more.  That  principle  unlocks  the  gates 
of  everlasting  growth.  Before  me  stretches  the  con- 
tinual revelation  of  my  Lord.  Eternity  can  never 
grow  so  old  that  I  shall  not  be,  just  as  I  am  more 
and  more  obedient  to  Christ,  more  wise  in  Christ  for 
ever. 

To  all  who  have  to  teach  or  to  comfort  (and  who 
is  there  of  us  into  whose  lot  it  does  not  sometimes 
fall),  is  not  this  the  lesson  that  must  come  ? — we 
who  would  help  each  other  need  a  profounder 
experience,  a  profounder  love  of  truth  ourselves. 
Down  into  serious  contemplation  of  sacred  and 
eternal  things  we  must  go  to  get  the  help  our 
brothers  need,  down  into  the  darkness  of  those 
thoughts  where  man  comes  close  to  God,  to  learn 
what  we  may  teach  in  the  light.  .  .  .  Oh, 
that  we  could  understand  how  deep  Christ  went  for 
all  the  help  and  teaching  that  He  gave!  Out  of  the 
darkness  of  the  wilderness  came  the  light  of  the 
temple.  Out  of  the  darkness  of  the  tomb  came  the 
light  of  the  resurrection. 


SATURDAY  AFTER  THE  FIRST  SUNDAY.         6l 

O  fathers,  mothers,  friends,  ministers,  teachers, 
scholars,  men  !  in  all  our  darkness  we  must  give 
each  other  light.  To  love  the  truth  on  one  hand 
and  our  brethren  on  the  other,  to  love  God  and 
God's  children,  that  will  make  our  human  nature 
transparent  so  that  God  can  shine  through  it.  For 
this  one  thing  we  are  sure  of — that  no  man  ever  yet 
loved  Christ,  and  loved  his  brother,  that  Christ  did 
not  find  His  own  way  through  him  into  his  brother, 
and  so  help  and  enlighten  both  the  humble  teacher 
and  learner  zvith  Himself. 

May  that  give  courage  to  all  of  us  who  teach  and 
learn ! 

He  hath  spoken  in  the  darkness, 

In  the  silence  of  the  night. 
Spoken  sweetly  of  the  Father, 

Words  of  life,  and  love  and  light     .     •    • 
What  He  telleth  in  the  darkness — 

Songs  He  giveth  in  the  night — 
Rise  and  speak  it  in  the  morning, 

Rise  and  sing  them  in  the  light  ! 

He  hath  spoken  in  the  darkness, 

In  the  silence  of  thy  grief, 
Sympathy  so  deep  and  tender. 

Mighty  for  thy  heart-relief    .     ,     , 
What  He  tells  thee  in  the  darkness, 

Weary  watcher  for  the  day, 


62  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Grateful  lip  and  life  should  utter 
When  the  shadows  flee  away. 

He  is  speaking  in  the  darkness, 

Though  thou  canst  not  see  His  face, 
More  than  angels  ever  needed, — 

Mercy,  pardon,  love  and  grace     .     .     . 
What  He  tells  thee  in  the  darkness, 

Whispers  through  Time's  lonely  night. 
Thou  shalt  speak  in  glorious  praises. 

In  the  everlasting  light ! 

O  Lord  Jesus,  the  Truth,  the  Wisdom,  the  Word  of  God  ;  of 
Thine  exceeding  goodness  make  me,  I  beseech  Thee,  to  learn  so 
diligently  and  humbly  of  Thee,  that  I  may  be  replenished  with 
wisdom  however  scant  my  knowledge  ;  and  may  be  able  to  speak 
gracious  words  or  keep  gracious  silence  in  all  my  daily  walk  with 
Thee  and  with  those  whom  Thou  hast  given  me.     Amen. 


Seconb  Sunba?  in  %cnt 

These  three  men,  Noah,  Daniel,  and  Job. — Ezek.,  xiv.,  14. 

Noah,  the  Believer  in  God's  Word,  Daniel,  the 
Doer  of  God's  Law,  and  Job,  the  patient  Bearer  of 
God's  Will, — these  are  the  three  forms  in  which  life 
comes  to  every  man,  these  are  the  three  characters 
into  which  men  are  trained  by  every  faithful  accept- 
ance of  their  life  at  the  hands  of  God,  and  these 
are  the  three  types  of  loyalty  in  whose  completion 
humanity  would  be  complete.  To  one  man  life  is 
a  problem  to  be  solved ;  it  is  the  darkness  which 
distresses  him;  it  is  light,  only  light,  which  he 
craves.  To  another  man  life  is  a  duty  to  be  done, 
a  task  that  calls  for  power  and  steadfastness  ; — weak- 
ness and  fear  and  idleness  are  what  he  dreads.  And 
yet  to  other  men  Hfe  is  a  burden  to  be  borne, — a 
weight  laid  heavily  upon  the  shoulders  which  needs 
a  simple,  passive  strength  that  will  not  yield,  a 
steadying  of  the  bent  back,  a  stiffening  of  the 
trembling   muscles  to  bear  the    heavy    downward 

63 


64  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

pressure  of  this  human  Hving.  Often  these  types 
of  character  follow  each  other  in  the  course  of  one 
developing  life.  .  .  .  The  man  who  has  known 
life  only  as  a  problem  beginning  to  realize  it  as  a 
task,  and  seeing  it  grow  clear,  concrete,  and  almost 
solid  before  his  eyes ;  or  the  man  who  has  known  life 
as  a  task  becoming  gradually  aware  of  its  mystery 
and  almost  seeing  its  narrow  limitations  open  and 
its  infiniteness  manifest  itself ;  or  the  man  in  whom 
there  has  been  the  craving  for  truth  and  the  faith- 
fulness in  work  coming  at  last  to  see  that  there  is  a 
crown  to  both  of  these,  which  can  come  only  when 
a  man  is  content  to  sit  in  the  darkness  and  wait  for 
the  will  of  God ; — these  are  the  moments  of  rich 
experience,  the  times  when  Noah,  Daniel,  and  Job 
meet  one  another  in  the  city  of  our  life. 

We  see  that  this  is  not  a  fancy;  we  know  that 
these  are  indeed  perpetually  distinct  types  of  human 
character,  because  of  the  different  sorts  of  men 
which  we  see  that  they  produce  entirely  apart  from 
religion.  .  .  .  They  appear,  clearly  distinguish- 
able, in  the  most  earthly  pagan  life.  There,  too, 
are  Noah,  Daniel,  and  Job,  the  counterparts,  in  the 
lower  sphere  of  self-reliance,  of  the  great  heroes  of 
the  upper  world  of  faith  in  God.  .  .  .  One  man 
peers  into  life  to  understand  it ;    another  man  lays 


SECOND   SUNDAY  IN  LENT.  65 

his  Strong  hands  on  life  to  do  it ;  another  man 
bends  his  back  simply  to  take  it.  But  our  three 
men  in  the  Bible  add  something  to  this ; — they  do 
not  merely  indicate  the  different  dispositions  and 
illustrate  the  different  lots  of  men  which  we  see 
everywhere,  but  they  live  their  different  lives  in 
obedience  to  God.  One  love  pervades  them  all. 
Noah  listens  in  docility  while  God  tells  him  how  the 
ark  of  his  safety  must  be  built;  Daniel  lifts  up  his 
eyes  to  God,  and  then  goes  and  does  his  duty  in 
Babylon  with  the  den  of  roaring  lions  yawning  at 
his  side ;  Job  sits  in  his  misery  and  bears  it  patiently 
because  it  came  from  God.  Then  out  of  their  several 
centuries,  out  of  their  scattered  homes — Noah  out 
of  his  far  distant  antiquity  where  we  can  fix  neither 
time  nor  place,  Daniel  out  of  Babylon,  Job  out  of 
the  land  of  Uz — they  come  and  meet  in  this  city  of 
Ezekiel's  vision.  Noah  hears  his  messages,  Daniel 
does  his  faithful  work.  Job  meets  his  pain,  in  these 
streets  which  have  existence  only  in  the  prophet's 
dream.  At  once  that  unbuilt  city  becomes  the  pic- 
ture of  the  world  in  which  humanity  works  out  its 
great  career  under  the  care  of  God.  Life  the  Prob- 
lem, Life  the  Task,  and  Life  the  Burden,  meet  the 
souls  of  men  everywhere ;  and,  by  the  docility  and 
fidelity  and  patience  which  are  trained  in  them, 


66  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

the  city  of  our  human  Hfe  is  gradually  filled  with 
God. 

Surely  it  gives  us  a  very  deep  sense  of  the  rich- 
ness of  the  world  and  its  material  when  we  see  how 
in  it  and  by  it  God  may  thus  train  the  natures  of 
His  children.  We  abuse  the  world,  we  talk  of  how 
it  hides  the  truth  from  us,  of  how  it  threatens  us 
or  allures  us  to  do  what  is  wrong,  of  how  its  hard 
blows  make  us  suffer,  of  how  its  heavy  weights 
crush  us,  but  certainly  there  is  another  thought, 
more  gracious  and  more  generous,  about  this  rich 
old  Earth  that  so  uncomplainingly  takes  our  com- 
plaints, and  never  withholds  its  bounty  for  all  our 
fretfulness  and  grumbling.  Certainly,  if  mystery  can 
make  faith,  and  temptation  can  make  fidelity,  and 
pain  can  make  patience,  then  the  Earth  which  teems 
with  all  three  may  be  a  very  blessed  place.  All 
through  eternity  we  may  look  back  out  of  the  per- 
fect light  and  holiness  and  joy  of  heaven,  and  love 
the  old  Earth,  where  these  mixed  and  troubled 
years  were  lived,  for  the  memory  of  its  mystery,  its 
temptation,  and  its  pain. 

The  city  is  rich  in  which  there  is  a  Noah,  a  Dan- 
iel, and  a  Job.  Each  adds  his  element  to  what  the 
rest  contribute,  and  the  whole  city's  life  grows  bal- 
anced and  complete.     The  life  is  rich  which  God 


SECOND   SUNDAY   IN   LENT.  6/ 

has  filled  with  knowledge,  duty,  and  patience,  mak- 
ing them  all  channels  through  which  He  gives  to  it 
Himself.  Let  us  pray  to  Him  that  we  may  rebel 
against  no  treatment,  though  it  seem  to  us  very  hard, 
which  enriches  us  with  any  one  of  these  elements 
that  we  may  lack;  and  makes  us  a  little  more  wise 
with  His  wisdom,  or  faithful  to  His  law,  or  patient 
under  His  will.  For  so  only  can  we  gain  Him, 
whom  to  have  perfectly  is  the  perfection  of  our  life. 

The  very  thinking  of  the  thought, 

Without  or  praise  or  prayer. 
Gives  light  to  know,  and  life  to  do. 

And  marvellous  strength  to  bear. 

O  my  God,  bestow  upon  me  such  confidence,  such  peace,  such 
happiness  in  Thee,  that  Thy  will  may  always  be  dearer  to  me  than 
my  own  will,  and  Thy  pleasure  than  my  own  pleasure.  All  that 
Thou  givest  is  Thy  free  gift  to  me,  all  that  Thou  takest  away  Thy 
grace  to  me.  Be  Thou  thanked  for  all,  praised  for  all,  loved  for 
all.     Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


flDonbai?  after  tbe  Secont)  Sunba?- 

He  that  seeketh  His  glory  that  sent  Him,  the  same  is  true,  and  no 
unrighteousness  is  in  Him. — John,  vii.,  i8. 

Whatsoever  ye  do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God. — i  CoR.,  x.,  31. 

Utterly  broken  away  from  the  easy  peace  of 
careless  living,  incapable  of  it  by  His  whole  nature, 
Jesus  had  pressed  on  until  He  had  entered  into  that 
other  peace  which  lies  beyond,  the  peace  of  a  per- 
petual consciousness  of  God.  When  I  look  at  His 
life,  when  I  hear  Him  saying,  with  a  rich  content- 
ment in  His  voice  that  makes  needless  the  sight  of 
a  smile  on  His  face,  "  The  Father  hath  not  left  me 
alone,  for  I  do  always  the  things  which  please 
Him," — then  I  understand  by  contrast  the  misery 
of  that  false  self-consciousness  which  is  always  ques- 
tioning whether  God  has  not  deserted  it,  and  which 
shrinks  from  any  frank  filial  assurance  that  its  strug- 
gles to  do  His  will  have  surely  pleased  Him.  But 
none  the  less,  as  I  hear  Jesus  say  these  words,  do  I 
shrink  from  the  cheap  and  weak  philosophy  which, 

68 


MONDAY   AFTER   THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.         69 

because  self-consciousness  is  likely  to  be  morbid, 
would  stifle  self-consciousness  altogether, — which, 
because  souls  may  misconceive  their  relation  to 
God,  would  bid  the  soul  forget  its  relation  to  God 
entirely  and  live  as  if  it  belonged  only  to  the  earth, 
finding  its  task  only  as  the  brook  finds  its  path  from 
the  slope  of  the  rock  that  it  runs  over,  not  as  the 
tide  finds  its  way  up  to  the  beach  by  the  summons 
of  the  moon  over  its  head, — forgetting  God  and 
only  remembering  the  task  that  He  has  given,  and 
trusting  God  to  find  His  own  way  to  the  soul  that 
does  His  task,  hoping  that  it  may  at  length  be  filled 
unconsciously  with  Him. 

There  is  much  of  such  exhortation  now-a-days, 
and  we  can  see  where  it  has  come  from ;  it  is  the 
sight  of  morbid  self-consciousness  making  men  want 
to  stifle  self-consciousness  altogether.  But  Jesus 
teaches  us  a  better  way.  With  Him  self-conscious- 
ness is  perfect.  Not  merely  His  task,  but  the  pur- 
pose of  His  task,  and,  as  the  soul  of  its  purpose,  the 
Giver  of  His  task,  are  with  Him  always.  **  I  do 
always  the  things  which  please  Him,"  He  declares. 
He  never  loses  Himself  in  His  task,  in  our  ordinary 
sense, — a  sense  in  which  when  we  lose  ourselves  in 
our  tasks,  we  often  escape  from  self-consciousness 
and  pride  only  to  condemn  ourselves  to  sordidness 


70  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

and  pettiness.  Jesus  loses  Himself  not  in  His  task^ 
but  in  His  Father:  **  My  meat  is  to  do  the  will  of 
Him  that  sent  me,  and  to  finish  His  work."  And 
then  He  opens  this  experience  of  His  into  a  uni- 
versal law  of  life, — "  He  that  seeketh  His  glory 
that  sent  Him,  the  eame  is  true,  and  no  unrighteous- 
ness is  in  Him."  O  my  dear  friends,  there  is  our 
safety !  If  you  think  about  the  details  of  your  work 
as  if  there  were  nothing  beyond  them,  you  grow 
special,  narrow,  petty.  If  you  think  about  yourself 
and  your  culture  or  your  credit  in  your  work,  you 
grow  either  proud  or  moody.  If  you  think  about 
your  Father  who  gave  you  your  work,  you  grow 
faithful,  serene,  happy,  and  noble ;  and,  what  is 
best  of  all,  you  come  through  Him  into  true  sympa- 
thy with  all  other  workers  who  are  aware  of  Him, 
however  different  their  work  may  be  from  yours. 
Only,  in  order  to  attain  all  this,  you  must  know 
through  all  your  life  that  God  is  your  Father,  and 
that  He  has  indeed  given  you  what  you  are  doing. 
.  .  .  If  a  man  or  woman  is  able  to  get  and  keep 
that  [knowledge],  there  is  no  drudgery  so  mean  and 
crushing  that  it  cannot  be  hfted  and  made  buoyant 
— absolutely  none.  ...  If  you  can  do  it  for 
God,  in  perfect,  childlike,  loving  desire  for  His 
glory,  then  your  work,  be  it  as  heavy  in  its  nature 


MONDAY   AFTER  THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.  Jl 

as  it  may,  leaps  itself  from  the  low  ground,  and  car- 
ries you  every  day  into  the  presence  of  the  God  for 
whom  you  do  it.  That  is  the  continual  beauty  of  a 
consecrated  life,  possible  under  all  sorts  of  circum- 
stances, possible  to  every  kind  of  man  in  every  kind 
of  task. 

Lord,  give  me  light  to  do  Thy  work  ; 

For  only,  Lord,  from  Thee 
Can  come  the  light  by  which  these  eyes 

The  way  of  work  can  see. 

The  work  is  Thine,  not  mine,  O  Lord  ; 

It  is  Thy  race  we  run  ; 
Give  light,  and  then  shall  all  I  do, 

Be  well  and  truly  done. 

O  God,  Who  has  set  us  our  work  to  do  in  life,  give  us  grace  to  do 
it  in  and  for  Thee.  Grant  that  no  temptation  of  this  present  evil 
world  may  lead  us  to  forget  that  Thee,  and  only  Thee,  we  must 
serve  in  all  things.     Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


ZTueeba?  after  tbe  Seconb  Sun&a?* 

They  answered  Him,  We     .     ,     .     were  never  in  bondage  to  any 
man.— John,  viii.,  33. 

Sin  is  one  master  in  many  forms,  but  when  it  has 
taken  its  slave  it  holds  him  with  a  terrible  power. 
Not  that  the  slave  is  always  conscious  of  it ;  such  is 
his  strange  perversion  that  sometimes  he  takes  the 
very  fact  of  his  slavery  and  makes  it  out  to  be  a 
proof  of  freedom.  Look  at  the  young  man  in  the 
hideous  career  of  dissipation :  he  calls  it  liberty ; 
he  waves  his  flag  as  he  rushes  along,  and  says, 
"  Behold,  how  free  I  am!"  He  is  honest  enough; 
he  thinks  that  he  is  free.  But  let  him  try  to  stop ! 
— then  he  finds  that  the  headlong  rush  which  he 
calls  freedom  is  really  slavery.  It  is  as  much  slavery 
when  a  torrent  is  whirled  helpless  on  to  the  sea  as 
when  a  lake  lies  rotting  in  forced  stagnation  under 
the  sun.  Oh!  there  is  no  power  of  sin  so  subtle 
and  so  hateful  as  that  which  makes  the  sinner  think 
that  he  is  free  in  sinning. 

72 


TUESDAY  AFTER  THE   SECOND    SUNDAY.         J}) 

Another  of  our  masters  \sfear.  There  is  no  man 
with  sense  enough  to  feel  the  Infinite  which  is  close 
to  him,  and  who  is  destitute  of  a  religious  assurance 
of  reconciHation  and  harmony  with  that  Infinite, 
who  is  not  afraid.  If  anything  goes  wrong,  if  any 
panic  smites  a  people,  you  feel  a  thrill  and  stir  which 
let  you  know  that  no  man  has  forgotten  the  mystery 
and  awfulness  of  life,  no  man  has  forgotten  that 
only  a  thin  plank  of  fragile  circumstance  separates 
him  from  the  infiniteness  of  eternity  and  God.  It  is 
not  an  ignoble  fear;  it  is  noble.  It  is  the  conscious- 
ness of  being  out  of  place,  out  of  relation  to  what  we 
have  to  do  with,^ — floating  on  eternity  and  God,  but 
foreign  to  them.  The  only  release  comes  by  the 
soul  becoming  perfectly  reconciled  with  the  Infinite 
on  which  it  rests,  entering  into  the  nature  of  the 
mystery  it  feared,  becoming  the  child  of  God. 
Then  it  cannot  fear  God  any  longer,  any  more  than 
the  wave  fears  the  deep  sea  out  of  which  it  sprang, 
with  which  it  is  one  in  nature,  upon  whose  breast  it 
runs  its  race,  and  to  which  it  returns. 

Another  kind  of  slavery  is  our  slavery  to  men, 
from  which  nothing  can  set  us  free  except  the  libera- 
tion which  comes  to  us  as  the  sons  of  God.  .  .  . 
All  simple  rebellion  against  our  brethren's  dictation 
and  assumed  authority  makes  us  obstinate  and  turns 


74  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

us  into  outlaws.  We  must  take  refuge  from  the 
authority  of  man  in  the  fatherly  authority  of  God, 
or  we  are  like  prisoners  escaped  from  a  prison  into  a 
desert,  who  must  sooner  or  later  come  back  to  their 
prison  again,  and  beg  to  be  taken  into  it  as  their 
only  refuge  from  cold  and  starvation. 

[But]  our  worst  slavery  is  our  slavery  to  our- 
selves. Its  terribleness  is  in  its  intimacy.  The  self 
that  is  despot  and  the  self  that  is  slave  are  so  very 
close  together!  It  seems  as  if  nothing  could  come 
in  between  them.  But  when  something  does, — 
when  closer  to  ourself  than  ourself  comes  in  our 
brother,  so  that  we  would  rather  give  ourself  to  him 
than  to  ourself, — then  the  self-bondage  is  broken, 
and  our  chains  lie  at  our  feet.  But  closer  than  our 
brother  comes  our  Father, — nay,  our  brother  comes 
closest  to  us  only  in  our  Father's  closeness,  and  so 
the  real  release  from  the  bondage  of  self-love  comes 
with  the  love  of  God.  We  escape  from  the  slavery 
of  selfishness  only  as  we  come  into  the  liberty  of  the 
children  of  God.  Not  to  deny  yourselves,  O  friends, 
but  to  love  and  serve  God  is  the  way  to  break  down 
the  tyranny. 

This  is  the  story  of  man's  slavery;  these  are  our 
masters.  Jesus  said  once  to  the  Jews  who  were 
crowding  around   Him  and  caUing  themselves  His 


I 

TUESDAY  AFTER  THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.        75 

disciples,  "  You  shall  know  the  truth,  and  the  truth 
shall  make  you  free."  They  answered  Him,  "  We 
be  Abraham's  seed,  and  were  never  in  bondage  to 
any  man."  Jesus  answered  them,  "  Verily,  verily, 
I  say  unto  you ;  whosoever  committeth  sin  is  the 
servant  of  sin."  It  was  the  same  thing  there  in  old 
Jerusalem,  precisely  the  same  thing  which  we  have 
here  to-day.  Christ  comes  to  men  and  wants  to 
free  them  with  His  truth;  and  the  answer  is,  **  We 
are  not  slaves;  it  is  absurd,  fanatical  to  talk  so." 
But  what  is  the  real  truth  ?  Are  you  free  ?  When 
not  a  day  passes  that  there  is  not  some  brave,  gen- 
erous, self-sacrificing,  truthful,  godly  thing  which 
you  know  you  ought  to  do,  but  which  you  do  not 
do  because  your  sin,  or  your  fear,  or  your  neighbor, 
or  yourself,  forbids  you,  do  you  need  no  liberation  ? 
Oh,  we  are  not  free,  not  wholly  free,  one  of  us ;  and 
we  never  shall  be  till  we  are  thoroughly  back  in  our 
Father's  family,  thoroughly  the  children  of  God 
through  Christ.  "  If  the  Son  shall  make  us  free, 
we  shall  be  free  indeed." 

When  a  little  child  is  brought  to  Baptism  in  that 
grand,  sweet  Sacrament  which  men  make  so  small 
and  petty,  it  is  "  made  the  child  of  God."  In  the 
declaration  of  its  essential  nature,  in  the  anticipation 
of  its  best  possibility,  it  is  laid  in  its  Father's  arms, 


^6  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

and  declared  to  be  His.  That  act  is  the  declaration 
of  the  child's  emancipation.  Not  under  sin,  not  in 
fear,  not  by  other  men's  standards,  not  for  himself, 
that  child  is  to  live ;  but  there,  at  the  very  outset 
of  his  life,  it  is  sublimely  recognized  that  he  can 
escape  from  all  these  only  by  claiming  his  place  in 
his  Father's  household.  If  he  is  not  God's  child, 
why  should  he  not  be  the  world's  drudge  ? 

Oh,  that  that  truth  of  the  Baptism  might  run 
through  all  our  lives!  Oh,  that  we  might  expect 
no  holiness,  no  courage,  no  independence,  no  self- 
sacrifice,  except  in  the  household  and  the  heart  of 
our  Father;  no  liberty  except  the  glorious  liberty  of 
the  children  of  God  ! 

One  Master,  only  one,  have  we  ; 

His  rule  is  pierfect  liberty  ; 

His  law  is  love,  his  love  is  life  ; 

His  service  sets  us  free  from  strife, 

From  fear,  from  self,  from  sin,  from  death ; 

In  Him  alone  we  draw  free  breath  ; 

And,  every  earthly  bondage  riven, 

At  last  He  makes  us  free  of  heaven  ! 

Almighty  and  everlasting  God,  of  Whose  only  gift  it  cometh  that 
Thy  faithful  people  do  unto  Thee  true  and  laudable  service  ;  Grant, 
we  beseech  Thee,  that  we  may  so  faithfully  serve  Thee  in  this  life 
that  we  fail  not  finally  to  attain  Thy  heavenly  promises  ;  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


'JKIle&nc9&a?  after  tbe  Seconb  Sunba?. 

Know  ye  not  that  to  whom  ye  yield  yourselves  servants  to  obey, 
his  servants  ye  are  to  whom  ye  obey  ;  whether  of  sin  unto  death,  or 
of  obedience  unto  righteousness? — Rom.,  vi.,  i6. 

Casting  down  imaginations,  and  every  high  thing  that  exalteth 
itself  against  the  knov/ledge  of  God,  and  bringing  into  captivity 
every  thought  to  the  obedience  of  Christ. — 2  Cor.,  x.,  15. 

He  that  abideth  in  .  .  .  Christ,  he  hath  both  the  Father  and 
the  Son. — 2  John,  9. 

He  that  hath  the  Son  hath  life. — i  John,  v.,  i2v 

This  setting  of  the  less  and  finite  into  the  com- 
plete Infinite  Nature  Christ  calls  by  various  names. 
Sometimes  it  is  faith :  you  must  beHeve  in  God. 
Sometimes  it  is  affection  :  you  must  love  God. 
Always  what  it  means  is  the  same  thing:  you  must 
belong  to  God.  Then  His  life  shall  be  your  life.  I 
am  come  to  bring  you  to  Him,  that  so  you  may 
have  life,  and  have  it  more  abundantly.  Sometimes 
He  seems  to  gather  up  His  fullest  declaration  of 
this  vital  connection  of  man  with  God,  and  call  it  by 
one  mighty  word — obedience.  You  must  obey  God, 
and  so  live  by  Him. 

77 


yS  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

How  words  degrade  themselves!  How,  used  to 
express  a  base  relation  between  base  natures,  this 
great  word — obedience — has  grown  base  and  hard 
and  servile!  Men  hate  the  sound  of  it.  Men  dread 
the  thought  of  it  as  a  disgrace.  "  I  never  will 
obey,"  men  say,  as  if  so  they  asserted  the  greatness 
of  their  souls.  Is  it  not  true  that  what  they  really 
assert  is  the  meagreness  of  their  lives  ?  He  who 
obeys  nothing  receives  nothing.  Obedience,  in  the 
purity  of  its  idea,  is  the  setting  of  life  into  life  as 
the  tree  is  set  into  the  ground,  so  that  the  life  which 
is  obeyed  may  pour  its  vitality  into  the  obeying  life. 
You  set  your  life  into  a  dead  thing,  and  it  pours 
into  you  its  death.  You  obey  a  living  thing  (and  to 
such  only  have  you  right  to  give  yourself  in  obedi- 
ence), and  at  once  you  are  a  sharer  in  its  life.  This 
is  the  principle  under  which  the  strength  of  the 
strongest  becomes  the  possession  of  the  weak,  and 
the  whole  universe  throbs  with  the  mutual  minis- 
tries of  its  parts.  You  obey  a  Law,  which  is  but  a 
Truth  declaring  its  authority,  and  all  the  richness  of 
the  Truth,  and  of  the  Law  which  expresses  it,  is 
yours.  You  obey  the  master,  and  the  art  you  wish 
to  learn,  and  all  the  treasuries  which  his  long  years 
of  study  and  toil  have  filled  to  overflowing,  open 
their  gates  to  you.     .     .     . 


WEDNESDAY  AFTER  THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.      79 

Let  us  glorify  Obedience.  It  is  not  slavery,  but 
mastery.  He  who  obeys  is  master  of  the  master 
whom  he  serves.  He  has  his  hand  in  the  very 
depths  of  his  master's  treasures.  When  God  says 
to  His  people,  **  Do  this  and  live,"  He  is  not  mak- 
ing a  bargain;  He  is  declaring  a  necessary  truth. 

He  who  does  My  will,  possesses  Me;  for  My  will 
is  the  broad  avenue  to  the  deepest  chambers  of  My 
life.  There  is  nothing  in  Me  that  he  who  obeys  Me 
may  not  reach  according  to  his  power.  *  Son,  thou 
art  ever  with  me,  and  all  that  I  have  is  thine  ' ;  " — ■ 
so  speaks  the  infinite  God  to  the  obedient  child. 
But  to  disobedience  the  door  is  closed.  Whatever 
wealth  there  may  be  is  none  of  his.  Obedience 
means  mastery  and  wealth.  Therefore  let  us  glorify 
obedience,  which  is  light  and  life,  and  dread  diso- 
bedience, which  is  darkness  and  death.  Find  your 
true  masters,  and  obey  them.  For  only  in  obedi- 
ence do  you  enrich  your  life.  Live  and  obey. 
Obey  and  live. 

Christ  crowded  it  all  into  His  parable  of  the  Tal- 
ents. The  Talent  in  the  napkin — action  shunned 
because  action  is  dangerous — that  Is  not  life,  but 
death.  "Act!  act!  turn  powers  into  deeds,"  is  the 
perpetual  exhortation  of  the  Lord  of  Life.  There 
is  a  stingy  caution  which  will  do  nothing  for  fear  of 


8o  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

doing  wrong,  and  so  does  wrong  all  the  time.  But 
all  the  time  the  talent  is  the  Lord's  talent,  to  be 
used  i?i  obedience  to  Him.  *'  Thou  oughtest  to  have 
put  my  money  to  the  exchangers,  and  then  at  my 
coming  I  should  have  received  mine  own."  Every 
deed  is  part  of  one  great  drama  through  which  flows 
one  vast  purpose,  by  union  with  which  purpose 
alone  does  any  deed  be  strong.  What  folly  it  is  to 
be  selfish !  It  is  one  wheel  of  the  vast  engine  unbelt- 
ing itself  from  all  its  brother  wheels,  saying,  **  I  will 
spin  my  own  music;  I  will  not  be  obedient,"  and 
lo !  it  whirls  wildly  into  space  a  minute,  and  then 
drops  into  the  sand  and  dies.  That  is  dissipation ; 
that  is  what  men  sometimes  call  Life.  Blessed  is  it 
if  the  poor,  wretched,  dissipated  wheel  is  taken  up 
by  the  kind  master  of  the  engine,  and  reforged  in 
any  hot  furnace  of  pain,  and  set  once  more  in  its 
true  place  from  whence  it  flew.  That  is  blessed ; 
but  a  thousand-fold  more  blessed  is  it  for  the  wheel 
which  catches  from  the  first  the  glory  of  service, 
makes  every  revolution  a  delight  in  responding  to 
the  throb  and  beat  of  the  central  power,  finds  every 
deed  dignified  by  the  entire  motion  of  the  whole, 
loses  itself  and  so  finds  itself,  and  lives  by  obedience, 
and  lives  ever  more  and  more  abundantly. 


WEDNESDAY   AFTER  THE   SECOND    SUNDAY.      8 1 

Knowledge,  will — 
These  twain  are  strong,  but  stronger  yet  the  third, — 

Obedience  ; — 't  is  the  great  tap-root  that  still, 
Knit  round  the  rock  of  duty,  is  not  stirred, 
Though  heaven-loosed  tempests  spend  their  utmost  skill. 

Lord  Jesus,  grant  me  grace  to  come  to  Thee  in  obedience,  and  by 
constant  obedience  to  abide  with  Thee  ;  that  my  foundation  may  be 
upon  the  Rock  of  Ages,  and  that  underneath  me  may  be  the  Ever- 
lasting Arms.     Hold  me  fast  that  I  may  cleave  unto  Thee  ;  embrace 

me  that  I  may  cling  to  Thee.     Amen. 
6 


^bureba?  after  tbe  Second  Sunba?* 

Because  the  creature  itself  shall  be  delivered  from  bondage  into 
the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God. — Rom.,  viii.,  2i. 

The  centralness  of  man !  All  truest  study  of  the 
world  finds  in  the  human  life  its  purpose  and  its 
key.  Everything  in  Nature,  every  plant  and  min- 
eral, if  we  watch  it  long  enough,  wisely  enough, 
opens  its  heart  and  reveals  some  service  which  it  is 
made  to  render  to  our  life.  The  Bible  speaks,  and 
under  its  majestic  symphony  of  human  history  runs 
a  deep,  correspondent  music  from  the  dumb  and 
brutish  world ;  the  primal  innocence  of  man  blooms 
in  a  blooming  garden ;  the  fall  of  man  and  his  long 
struggle  upward  brings  the  picture  of  a  world  all 
thorns  and  thistles,  bleakness  and  bitterness,  with 
richness  and  fertility  laboring  beneath,  and  more 
and  more  breaking  their  hard  but  certain  way 
through.  All  civilized  societies,  all  little  circles  of 
people  using  the  world,  and  making  the  world  they 
use   assume   their   aspect, — all  of   these   testify  to 

82 


THURSDAY  AFTER  THE  SECOND   SUNDAY.       83 

how  "  the  creature,"  by  the  law  of  God  who  made 
it,  shares  in  the  character  and  destiny  of  man  who  is 
its  master. 

This  is  just  Paul's  idea.  The  world,  he  says,  is 
what  man  makes  it.      It  rises  and  falls  with  him. 

The  world  is  not  bad,"  he  declares;  "  if  anything 
is  bad,  it  is  you.  You  curse  the  world ;  the  world 
does  not  curse  you.  The  world  is  what  you  make 
it."  And  then  he  goes  on  with  a  great,  suggestive 
figure:  "  The  whole  trouble  lies  here,"  he  says, — 
"  man  is  not  free.  Man  is  a  slave."  The  creature, 
then,  the  whole  created  world,  is  not  merely  a  ser- 
vant, it  is  the  servant  of  a  servant ;  it  is  a  slave  of  a 
slave.  If  man  were  really  free,  the  world's  dignity 
and  power  would  consist  in  doing  his  will ;  as  it  is, 
with  him  a  slave,  its  disgrace  and  shame  lie  in  the 
fact  that  it  shares  his  slavery.  It  never  can  come 
to  its  full  beauty  and  effect  till  it  is  called  out  by 
him  to  its  best  service,  till  he  becomes  free,  and  it, 
serving  a  free  master,  has  a  chance  to  show  its  best. 
.  .  .  Everywhere  the  slave  of  a  slave  is  wretched. 
His  slave-master  vents  on  him  the  misery  and  rage 
of  his  disgrace.  There  is  no  hope  for  the  slave- 
servant  till  first  the  slave-master  is  made  free,  and 
he  is  delivered  from  bondage  into  the  glorious  lib- 
erty which  his  lord  attains. 


84  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

I  ask  one  of  you  men,  *'  Why  are  you  not  a  [bet- 
ter] Christian  ?"  What  is  your  answer?  *'  Oh, 
my  business!  It  holds  me;  it  restrains  me;  I  can- 
not think  of  spiritual  things.  I  cannot  consecrate 
myself.  My  business  is  of  the  earth,  earthy;  it 
holds  me  down." 

That  business  is  your  world.  It  is  *'  the  crea- 
ture '*  with  which  you  have  to  do.  It  is  your  slave. 
And  you,  fou  are  a  slave  to  your  own  selfishness,  to 
your  own  lust  of  gain.  Your  business  shares  your 
slavery.  It  is  the  slave  of  a  slave.  Of  course  it  is 
degrading.  But  suppose  you  were  free;  suppose, 
by  a  strong  struggle  and  with  the  grace  of  God,  you 
broke  your  chains  and  were  no  longer  selfish ;  sup- 
pose you  loved  God,  and  meant  to  serve  Him,  Him 
alone.  That  business  of  yours  would  then  be  a 
freeman's  slave.  It  would  be  Hberated  in  your  lib- 
eration. It  would  no  longer  drag  you  down,  but 
lift  you  up.  It  would  make  you  a  better  Christian 
every  day.  The  creature  itself  would  be  delivered 
from  bondage  into  the  glorious  liberty  on  which  you 
would  have  entered  as  a  child  of  God.     .     .     . 

When  the  race  of  men  is  liberated  from  all  slav- 
eries into  the  freedom  of  God,  the  whole  world  is  to 
be  transformed,  the  creature  is  to  be  delivered  from 
the  **  bondage  of  corruption."     That  is  a  glorious 


THURSDAY   AFTER  THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.       85 

picture,  a  mighty,  fascinating  vision.  But  a  more 
immediately  precious  truth  for  you  and  me  is  this, 
- — that  as  each  man  is  set  free  now  the  world  is 
already  transformed  for  him,  the  new  heaven  and 
the  new  earth  come  already  to  the  member  of 
Christ,  the  child  of  God,  the  inheritor  of  the  king- 
dom of  heaven !  I  cannot  doubt  that  this  world 
was  a  different  thing  to  Jesus  Christ  from  what  it  is 
to  us.  The  same  color  in  the  flowers  and  the  sky, 
the  same  look  in  the  faces  of  fellow-men,  the  same 
defects  and  merits  in  the  government  of  C^sar, — but 
all  different  because  He  was  different, — all  bursting 
out  with  helps  and  Godspeeds  to  His  holiness 
because  He  was  the  child  of  God, — all  his  Father's 
world,  and  so  all  His  world,  lending  itself  freely  to 
the  culture  of  His  character  and  the  fulfilment  of 
His  plans.  I  find  no  word  of  querulous  dissatisfac- 
tion upon  Jesus'  lips  about  the  world  He  had  come 
into.  It  was  a  good  enough  world  to  live  a  good 
life  in, — no  doubt  with  pain,  no  doubt  with  violent 
collisions,  but  yet  with  no  impossibilities.  There 
was  nothing  in  it  which  the  good  man  might  not  use 
for  good.  And  always  man  was  not  to  be  improved 
by  being  put  into  a  better  world,  the  world  was  to 
be  renewed  by  the  occupation  of  a  renewed  and 
holy  manhood. 


86  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Against  the  cowardly  and  bitter  way  with  which 
we  charge  our  sins  upon  our  circumstances,  that 
clear,  brave,  happy  tone  of  Jesus  rings  out  like  the 
trumpet  that  announces  the  morning.  Not  in  our 
stars,  but  in  ourselves ;  not  in  the  world,  but  in  the 
man  the  trouble  lies.  Not  in  your  world,  but  in 
you.  If  you  are  free  in  Christ  your  world  shall  leap 
to  help  you.  And  freedom  comes  by  faith.  Believe 
in  Christ,  and  let  Him  lead  you  to  His  Father,  and 
nothing  can  hold  you  prisoner  or  keep  you  from 
being  all  that  His  Father  and  your  Father  made 
you  to  be. 

.     .     .     Ah,  so  may  all  be  free  ! 

Then  shall  the  world  grow  sweet  at  core  and  sound, 
And,  moved  in  blest  and  ordered  circuit,  see 

The  bright  millennial  sun  rise  fair  and  round, 
Heaven's  day  begin,  and  Christ,  whose  service  is 
Freedom  all  perfect,  rule  the  world  as  His. 

Blessed  Jesus,  Who  earnest  to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives, 
give  us  holy  freedom  ;  strike  off  these  binding  chains  of  sin  and 
lead  us  forth  into  the  land  of  righteousness  ;  for  Thy  Name's  sake. 
Amen. 


]fribai?  after  tbe  Seconb  Sun&a?* 

He  died  for  all,  that  they  which  live  should  not  henceforth  live 
unto  themselves,  but  unto  Him  which  died  for  them,  and  rose  again. 
— 2  Cor.,  v.,  15. 

When  we  recall  how  Jesus  seemed  to  be  driven 
by  other  people  to  His  death,  how  the  Jews  plotted 
against  Him,  how  His  own  friend  betrayed  Him, 
how  Pilate  deHvered  Him  to  His  tormentors,  how 
they  dragged  Him  from  the  judgment  hall  to  Gol- 
gotha, then  how  they  drove  the  nails  through  hands 
and  feet  and  set  the  Cross  up  in  the  ground,  it  is 
impressive  to  be  told  that  He  who  suffered — the 
poor,  meek,  tortured  Victim — was  after  all  the  real 
Will,  the  true  Chooser,  in  the  whole.  It  is  the  echo 
of  those  serene,  sublime  words  of  Christ   Himself, 

I  lay  down  My  life.  No  man  taketh  it  from  Me, 
but  I  lay  it  down  of  Myself.  I  have  power  to  lay  it 
down,  and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again."  This 
was  His  mastery  of  His  own  life. 

And  then,  this  mastery  is  not  only  over  life,  but 
87 


88  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

over  death.  Christ  not  merely  lived  with  a  purpose, 
but  He  died  with  a  purpose,  too.  Death  seems  so 
purposeless  to  most  men !  They  live  with  more  or 
less  of  purpose,  but  they  seem  to  die  at  random. 
It  comes  from  the  narrowness  and  shortness  of  all 
that  they  conceive.  Their  plans  have  just  vitality 
enough  to  last  this  life  out,  but  they  are  not  vital 
enough,  not  spiritual  enough,  to  spring  across  the 
gulf  and  be  at  home  on  the  other  side.  ...  It 
is  possible  to  have  the  aim  of  life  so  pure  and  spir- 
itual that  it  may  serve  us  in  dying  as  well  as  in 
living.  It  is  possible,  and  it  is  glorious.  The  man 
who  has  lived  to  make  money  cannot  die  so  as  to 
be  a  little  richer.  But  the  man  who  has  Hved  to  be 
good,  and  to  do  good,  sees  those  ambitions  that 
have  led  him  all  the  way  grow  brighter  as  his  way 
draws  near  its  close.  They  never  burned  so  brightly 
as  when  he  sees  them  just  across  the  River!  He 
dies  for  his  desires  more  earnestly  than  he  has  ever 
lived  for  them.  That  was  the  glory  of  the  death  of 
Christ.  It  was  no  accident ;  it  burns  yet  with  the 
intensity  of  that  same  loving  purpose  of  salvation 
which  had  filled  all  His  life.  "  He  died  for  all,  that 
they  which  live  should  not  henceforth  live  for  them- 
selves, but  unto  Him  which  died  for  them." 

This  phrase — "  living  unto  " — is  very  pregnant. 


FRIDAY  AFTER  THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.  89 

The  things  men's  lives  are  aimed  at,  the  things  they 
Hve  towards,  are  what  really  make  or  unmake  them. 
And  it  was  that  we  might  "  not  live  unto  ourselves  '* 
that  Jesus  died ;  first,  that  we  should  not  live  for 
our  own  pleasure;  and,  second,  that  we  should  not 
live  after  our  own  pattern.  A  man  goes  on  from 
day  to  day  with  no  more  lofty  aim  than  to  please 
himself;— "  What  shall  I  like?  What  shall  I 
choose  ?  "  he  asks,  as  every  new  morning  starts  the 
dull  clock-work  of  his  life  afresh.  No  look  pierces 
beyond  himself  and  finds  another,  to  please  whom 
is  dearer,  sweeter,  than  to  please  himself.  His 
desires  stop,  satisfied,  in  the  fancied  gardens  of  his 
own  joy,  and  have  no  noble  enterprise  to  travel 
farther. 

And  so,  too,  with  his  standards.  Matching  him- 
self against  himself,  satisfied  if  he  does  not  fall 
below  the  work  he  has  already  done,  only  disgusted 
with  himself  when  he  falls  below  the  average  that 
his  own  life  has  established,  copying  himself  over 
and  over  again,  he  goes  on  in  the  tiresome  routine 
of  his  low  content.  That  is  what  it  is  for  a  man  to 
live  unto  himself, — to  seek  forever  his  own  pleasure, 
to  copy  over  and  over  again  his  own  imperfect  life. 

Against  that  we  set,  what  ?  Why,  living  unto 
Christ.      Suppose   that   it   is   possible   for  a   man, 


go  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

instead  of  trying  to  please  himself,  to  be  always  try- 
ing to  please  Christ ;  instead  of  copying  himself,  to 
be  forever  copying  the  perfection  of  the  Perfect 
Life.  These  things  are  possible  ;  men,  women — 
yes,  and  little  children,  learn  to  do  them  both. 
Instead  of  asking,  "  What  will  please  me  ?  "  there 
stands  up  the  will  of  Him  who  can  only  be  pleased 
with  the  highest.  Instead  of  the  level  repetition  of 
himself,  the  man  is  always  going  up,  away  from 
himself,  with  the  lofty  struggle  to  be  like  the  Lord. 
New  hopes, — aye,  and  new  disappointments,  come 
into  the  life.  New  dreams,  new  visions,  quicken  the 
zest  of  living.  The  reign  of  selfishness  is  over;  we 
are  not  looking  down  upon  ourselves,  we  are  looking 
up  to  Him,  and  going  forward,  going  upward. 
That  is  living  unto  Him  who  died  for  us. 

Was  that  indeed  what  Jesus  died  for  ?  Was  He 
thinking  of  all  that  as  He  toiled  on,  bearing  the 
heavy  cross  to  where  He  was  to  hang  upon  it  ?  He 
looked  round  as  He  went  and  He  saw  men  and 
women  ...  as  they  crowded  up  to  see  the 
spectacle.  And  oh  !  we  cannot  tell  with  what 
divine  clearness,  out  beyond  that  little  crowd.  He 
saw  the  endless  line  of  men  and  women  who  were 
yet  to  live,  how  through  those  shouts  He  heard  the 
restless  cries  of  all  humanity  in  all  its  generations. 


FRIDAY   AFTER  THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.  91 

Was  He  thinking  of  it  all  the  time — was  it  support- 
ing Him  and  making  Him  triumphant — was  He 
always  saying  to  Himself,  *'  I  am  dying  for  all 
these,  that  all  of  them  may  live  henceforth  not  to 
themselves,  but  to  Me!"  Oh!  if  Christ  were  less 
than  we  love  to  believe  Him  to  be,  how  terrible 
these  words  would  be!  To  put  Himself  as  the 
crown  and  end  of  all  things!  .  .  .  The  martyr 
dies,  and  it  is  not  himself,  it  is  a  truth  that  he 
leaves  burning  where  his  ashes  fell,  whose  manifes- 
tation and  glorification  he  desires.  If  out  of  the 
flames  about  his  stake  there  comes  a  voice,  it  says, 
not,  "  Live  for  me,"  but  "  Live  for  the  truth  that 
I  have  shown  you  that  a  man  can  die  for."  No 
ma?i  dare  set  himself  before  his  brethren,  and  say, 
**  Attain  to  me  and  be  perfect!"  But  Christ  says 
just  that.  As  He  struggles  along,  our  dear  Lord 
looks  around  and  His  one  prayer  for  those  people 
is  that  they  may  /n>e  to  Him.  All  truth,  all  growth, 
all  holiness,  is  wrapped  up  in  that.  It  vmst  be  God 
who  is  so  absolute,  who  sees  in  the  attainment  of 
Himself  the  perfection  of  mankind !  It  must  be 
God  who  knows  no  more  terrible  lamentation  over  a 
human  soul  than  this,  ''  It  would  not  come  unto 
Me  "  ;  who  has  no  larger  prayer  to  pray  for  a  human 
soul  than  this, — "  that  it  may  live  unto  Him."     In 


92  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Him  is  the  perfection  of  goodness,  the  entire  satis- 
faction of  the  human  soul;  and  that  is  God. 

I  think  we  can  understand  it  then.  When  the 
horizon  opens,  and  the  cloud  is  broken  through, — 
when  the  Jew,  travelling  out  of  Egypt,  comes  to 
the  borders,  and  the  sea  which  lies  there  parts  and 
opens,  and  beyond  Hes  Canaan  all  free  for  him  to 
enter,  even  though  a  desert  is  yet  to  cross, — when 
the  man  struggling  to  perfect  himself  comes  to  the 
borders  of  his  selfhood,  and  there  the  sea  is  parted, 
and  the  way  lies  open  into  the  infinite  holiness  of 
God,  even  though  a  long  and  toilsome  desert  hes 
between, — when  the  old  standards  sink  and  one  new 
Standard  rises,  and,  so  simple  after  the  old  life's 
complexity,  so  warm  after  the  old  life's  coldness, 
there  stands  the  Christ  and  gathers  all  duty  and  all 
hope  together  into  one  complete  attainment,  and 
says,  "  Please  Me,"  "  Be  like  Me;  be  like  Me  by 
pleasing  Me,"  and  when  any  man  sets  out  to  do 
that,  makes  Christ  his  Master,  his  Object,  his  Hope, 
his  Law, — then  he  is  living  unto  Christ;  and  he 
goes  on  more  and  more  living  mto  Christ. 

Our  life  is  hid  with  Christ, 

With  Christ  in  God  above  ; 
Upward  our  heart  doth  go  to  Him, 

Whom,  seeing  not,  we  love. 


FRIDAY  AFTER   THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.  93 

Like  Him  we  then  shall  be. 

Transformed  and  glorified  ; 
For  we  shall  see  Him  as  He  is, 

And  in  His  light  abide. 

O  Merciful  Saviour,  Who  in  Thy  wondrous  love  didst  give  Thyself 
unto  death  that  we  might  have  life  ;  grant  me  grace  to  realize  more 
and  more  the  blessedness  of  living  unto  Thee  ;  so  that  I  may  faith- 
fully serve  Thee  here,  and  when  I  go  hence  may  be  found  in  Thee, 
in  Whom  alone  is  everlasting  life.  Neither  pray  I  for  myself  alone, 
but  for  all  whom  Thou  hast  given  me.     Amen. 


Saturba?  after  tbe  Seconb  Sunbai?* 

The  Father  himself  loveth  you  because  ye  have  loved  Me,  and 
have  believed  that  I  came  forth  from  God. — John,  xvi.,  27. 

When  the  great,  indiscriminate  affection  which 
God  has  for  all  His  children,  just  because  they  are 
His  children,  begins  to  pulsate  with  discrimination, 
— when  the  love  which  has  sent  rain  and  dew  with- 
out distinction  passes  over  into  a  deeper  love  which 
gives  the  deeper  happiness  with  most  delicate  adjust- 
ment, so  that  no  two  souls  in  all  the  world  are 
blessed  entirely  and  perfectly  alike, — there  can  be 
only  one  test  by  which  that  new  discrimination  can 
be  regulated.  It  must  be  by  their  power  to  receive 
these  deeper  blessings ;  and  so  it  must  be  by  their 
personal  conditions  and  qualities  that  souls  are  rated 
in  the  deeper  distribution  of  this  deeper  love  of 
God.  And  so  it  follows  that  if  to  **  love  Christ  "  is 
made  the  condition  of  being  loved  by  God,  then  to 
**  love  Christ  *'  must  mean  a  personal  condition,  a 
personal  quality.  This  is  the  first  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity, without    which    Christianity   becomes   thin 

94 


SATURDAY  AFTER  THE  SECOND   SUNDAY.       95 

and  sentimental, — that  a  man  must  be  something  in 
order  that  he  may  love  Christ,  and  so  his  loving 
Christ  must  mean  that  he  is  something. 

This  rests  upon  a  universal  principle,  which  is 
that  none  can  truly  love  a  being  unless  he  shares 
that  being's  nature,  unless  he  has  something  of  that 
being's  nature  in  himself,  and  so  that  our  loves  are 
the  tests  and  proofs  of  what  nature  there  is  in  us, 
and  so  that  all  our  advances  are  measured  by  the 
higher  and  higher  loves  of  which  we  are  always 
becoming  capable.  That  principle  lies  deep  in  the 
very  heart  of  all  our  culture  and  enjoyment.  It  is 
really  the  principle  of  life.  .  .  .  When  God 
sent  His  Son  into  the  world  this  law  found  its  com- 
plete exhibition.  Whoever  loved  Him  should  be 
loved  of  God ;  and  I  think  we  see  that  it  must  have 
been  because  those  who  loved  Him  were  proved 
hereby  to  be  worthy  of,  or,  we  may  more  fitly  say, 
to  hQ  capable  of  receiving- t\\Q  love  of  God. 

Think  of  Christ's  followers, — John  the  Baptist, 
Peter,  John,  Andrew,  Mary  Magdalen, — nay,  Mary, 
His  mother,  the  first  human  being  who  ever  loved 
Christ,  the  gentle  leader  of  the  hosts  of  souls  who 
have  loved  Him  since, — they  all  had  this  power  of 
taking  His  greatness  and  making  it  theirs  by  their 
adoration  of  Him.     And  so  the  Father,   who  was 


96  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

well  pleased  in  Him,  could  be  well  pleased  in  them. 
And  as  He  sat  with  some  of  them  around  the 
table,  He  could  look  into  their  faces  and  say, 
"  The  Father  loveth  you  because  ye  have  loved 
Me."     .     .     . 

Look  at  the  Cross, — what  is  the  love  of  the  sinner 
who  stands  there  at  its  foot,  renewing  the  love 
of  John  and  Mary  who  stood  in  that  same  cruel 
presence  years  ago  ?  Is  it  gratitude  to  Him  who 
dies  there,  not  for  Himself  but  for  the  sinner  ? 
Certainly  it  is !  But  can  that  gratitude  exist  unless 
the  patience  and  the  love  and  the  loftiness  and  the 
purity  of  the  Sufferer  have  pressed  themselves  upon 
the  wondering  soul,  and  won  that  only  homage 
which  any  noble  nature  ever  cares  to  receive  from 
any  other  nature, — -the  homage  of  struggle  for  like- 
ness, of  emulation  ?  The  Cross  shows  not  merely 
what  Christ  does,  but  what  Christ  is.  The  heart 
that  beats  against  the  Cross  is  not  merely  gathering 
into  itself  Christ's  mercy,  but  shaping  itself  upon 
Christ's  character.  The  love  of  gratitude  and  the 
love  of  adoration  go  together  when  the  act  that 
does  the  wonderful  benefit  likewise  shows  the  Per- 
fect Nature. 

There  is  yet  another  thing  about  this  love  of  God 
for  the  soul  that  loves  Christ.     It  is  indicated  in  the 


SATURDAY   AFTER  THE   SECOND   SUNDAY.       97 

last  clause  of  these  words  of  Jesus, — "  The  Father 
loveth  you  because  ye  have  loved  me,  and  have 
believed  that  I  came  forth  from  God."  God  is  the 
sole  blessing  of  the  universe,  because  He  fills  it  all, 
and  there  is  no  room  in  it  for  any  other  bene- 
factor. Wherever  there  is  any  real,  pure  joy  in 
any  smallest  pleasure-bearing  vein  of  man's  exist- 
ence, there  is  God.  Wherever  in  all  the  world  there 
is  anything  really  worthy  of  His  creatures'  adoration 
and  emulation,  it  is  He.  He  is  the  hero's  heroism 
and  the  martyr's  strength  and  the  saint's  piety;  and 
He  is  always  uncontent  if  any  one  of  His  children, 
loving  any  goodness  anywhere,  does  not  trace  it 
back  to  Him,  and  love  Him  in  loving  it.  He  sees 
that  none  of  His  children  get  the  best  good  out  of 
any  blessing  unless  they  receive  Him  in  it;  and  so 
He  says,  **  I  give  Myself  to  those  who  take  their 
blessings  as  from  Me."  Is  not  this  just  what  Jesus 
says  ? — "  My  Father  loves  you  because  you  have 
believed  that  I,  whom  you  love,  came  forth  from 
God."  He  loves  you  because  you  have  loved  Me 
as  His.  Your  love  for  Me  He  has  accepted  as  love 
for  Himself;  and  so,  when  I  say,  "  He  loves  you 
because  you  have  loved  Me,"  it  is  but  the  echo  of 
what  He  Himself  said  long  ago,  "  I  love  them  that 
love  Me." 


98  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Here  is  the  lesson  for  us,  my  friends.  The  more 
we  can  fasten  the  hfe  of  Jesus  to,  and  identify  it 
with,  the  life  of  God, — the  more  we  can  see  in  Him 
the  direct  utterance  of  the  Divine,  Eternal  Being, — 
the  more  we  believe  that  He  came  forth  from  God, 
and  the  more  thoroughly  we  accept  His  own  words, 
*'  He  that  hath  seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Father  "  ; — 
so  much  the  more  our  love  to  Him  will  win  for  us, 
will  open  our  souls  to  and  make  us  able  to  receive, 
the  love  of  God.  This  is  the  value  of  our  belief  in 
the  Divinity  of  Jesus;  it  makes  Him  such  that  love 
for  Him  can  fit  us  for  the  love  of  God,  which  is  the 
life  of  man. 

The  love  of  Jesus  is  not  only  an  act  of  the  soul, 
it  is  a  quality  /;/  the  soul.  I  do  not  disparage  the 
jubilant  delight  with  which  the  burdened  sinner 
knows  his  forgiveness,  and  stands  on  his  feet  thank- 
ing his  Lord,  but  that  thankfulness  is  not  the  love 
of  Jesus.  Only  when  to  a  soul,  in  silence  or  in 
tumult,  forth  from  all  the  mass  and  multitude  of 
being.  He,  Jesus  Christ,  stands  supreme,  alone,  and 
the  soul,  giving  itself  to  His  service,  finds  in  Him 
the  complete  utterance  of  Divine  Goodness  and 
Divine  Help,  and  grows  like  Him  by  its  admiration 
and  adoration, — then,  then  only  does  a  soul  love 
Jesus  Christ  as  He  wants  to  be  loved ;  and  then  the 


SATURDAY   AFTER   THE   SECOND    SUNDAY.       99 

promise  of  Jesus  is  certainly  fulfilled  to  it,  and  the 
Father  loves  it  because  it  loves  the  Son,  and  be- 
lieves that  He  came  forth  from  God. 

Here  is  the  place  wherein  all  souls  may  meet. 
The  bravest,  the  hardest,  the  tenderest,  the  most 
timid, — all  may  do  this,  all  may  love  Christ,  and  so 
all  may  meet  in  the  great  home-land  and  heaven  of 
humanity,  which  is  the  peace  and  nurture  of  being 
loved  by  God. 

For  the  Love  of  God  is  broader 
Than  the  measures  of  man's  mind  ; 

And  the  Heart  of  the  Eternal 
Is  most  wonderfully  kind. 

If  our  love  were  but  more  simple, 
We  should  take  Him  at  His  word, 

And  our  lives  would  be  all  sunshine 
In  the  sweetness  of  our  Lord. 

O  Loving  Father,  Who  hast  sent  Thy  Son  Jesus  Christ  to  die  on 
the  Cross  for  us,  give  me  grace  to  see  in  that  great  offering  Thy  Love 
for  us,  and  to  love  Thee  through  Him  by  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  through  the  same  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


^birb  Sunba^  in  %cnt 

They  say  unto  Him,  Lord,  that  our  eyes  maybe  opened. — MATT., 
XX.,  33. 

In  every  land,  clothed  with  all  sorts  of  garbs, 
with  every  kind  of  nobleness  and  meanness  in  their 
faces,  how  the  great  needy  multitude  sit  by  the 
waysides  of  humanity,  where  the  Lord  of  Humanity 
must  walk!  And  there  is  no  one  of  all  these  needy 
suppliants  who  has  it  not  in  his  power  to  pray  a 
smaller  or  a  larger  prayer,— to  pray  a  prayer,  that 
is,  which  either  asks  merely  for  some  endowment  or 
adornment  of  the  life,  or  a  prayer  which  asks  for  an 
elevation  and  alteration  of  the  life  itself,  such  as 
shall  correspond  to  the  gift  of  the  new  sense  of  sight 
which  the  Saviour  heard  the  blind  men  ask  at 
Jericho  ..."  Lord,  that  our  eyes  might  be 
opened,"  '*  Lord,  that  we  might  receive  our  sight!  " 
Our  sight!"  How  deep  these  words  are  with 
which  St.  Mark  tells  the  same  story !  Oiir  sight, — 
a  sight  which,  though  we  never  saw  with  it,  is  really 
ours, — the  sight  with  which  we  were  made  to  see. 

loo 


THIRD   SUNDAY   IN   LENT.  lOI 

The  consciousness  of  men  who  knew  that  the  vision- 
power  was  a  part  of  their  humanity— this,  joined  to 
the  accepted  testimony  of  seeing  men  that  they  really 
did  see,  made  these  two  blind  men  ready  for  the 
miracle  of  Christ. 

This  is  what  makes  men  believe  that  they  can  be 
Christians,  and  makes  them  cry  out  to  Christ.  The 
world  is  full  of  men  like  them,  whom  He  has  saved; 
and  in  the  depths  of  their  own  souls  they  feel  the 
power  of  being  saved,  the  power  of  holy  love  and  of 
fight  with  and  ultimate  escape  from  sin.  These  are 
the  things  which  every  man  may  have ;  therefore  for 
no  man  is  the  cry  to  Christ  impossible.  Therefore, 
however  men  are  living  prayerlessly  or  praying  Httle 
prayers,  there  is  no  one  of  them  so  hopeless  that  at 
any  moment  the  greater  prayer — the  prayer  for  Life, 
the  prayer  for  God — may  not  burst  from  his  wonder- 
ing lips:  Lord,  make  me  a  new  man!  Lord,  give 
me  Thy  new  Hfe!  Lord,  that  my  eyes  may  be 
opened — that  I  may  receive  my  sight ! 

Not  once  in  all  the  Gospels  is  it  written  that 
Christ  passed  by  a  prayer  like  that,  and  did  not 
answer  it.  He  never  did;  He  never  will.  "  So 
Jesus  had  compassion  on  them,  and  touched  their 
eyes ;  and  immediately  their  eyes  received  sight,  and 
they  followed  Him!"     .     .     . 


I02  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

These  men  could  see.  Their  bhndness  had  de- 
parted. But  how  dazed  they  must  have  been  ! 
How  strange  it  must  all  have  seemed !  All  their 
seeing  life  lay  before  them.  Their  work  was  to  be 
done.  No  more  sitting  in  the  soft  sunshine,  under 
the  pleasant  trees,  with  outstretched  hands  asking 
for  alms  ;  no  more  saying  to  themselves  :  *'  Oh, 
there  is  no  work  for  vie  to  do,  for  I  am  blind!  " 
Strangely  intensifying  and  yet  sobering  the  joy  of 
their  new  vision !  There  must  have  come  over  these 
men  the  sense  that  it  was  not  only  light  which  Christ 
had  given  them,  that  all  the  work  of  light-seeing 
men,  the  toil  of  self-support,  the  meeting  of  respon- 
sibilities and  duties,  must  belong  to  them.  There 
was  bravery  in  that !  It  was  good  for  them,  in  the 
flood  of  the  new  light  which  came  laden  with  Christ's 
love,  to  see  also  how  much  there  was  for  them  to 
do,  what  a  life  there  was  for  them  to  live. 

And  it  is  good  for  us.  You  have  prayed  the  great 
prayer,  and  it  has  been  answered.  The  doors  of  the 
new  life  have  been  opened  to  you,  and  you  are  a 
Christian.  How  good  it  is  for  you  that  on  the  very 
threshold  of  that  life,  and  away  on  to  the  very  end 
of  it,  it  is  all  thronged  with  work  and  duty! 

Do  you  sometimes  almost  turn  back,  and  almost 
wish  the  great  prayer  had  not  been  prayed  ?     * '  Oh, 


THIRD   SUNDAY   IN   LENT.  I03 

for  the  sunny  roadside,  and  the  pennies  dropped  into 
the  open  hand,  and  the  calm  days  when  no  one 
asked  of  me  any  duty,  and  I  asked  none  of  myself!  " 
But  just  as  two  things  must  have  checked  in  those 
blind  men  any  such  low  regrets, — just  as,  whenever 
their  foolish,  bewildered  hearts  looked  back,  they 
must  have  gazed  up  at  the  sun,  and  then  into  the 
face  of  Him  who  had  given  them  the  sunshine, — so 
it  must  be  with  you.  Look  round  upon  the  life 
itself,  and  see  how  glorious  and  beautiful  it  is,  after 
all,  for  a  human  soul  to  try  to  be  brave  and  pure 
and  holy,  and  full  of  help  to  other  souls ;  and  then 
turn  and  look  up  into  the  dear,  great  face  of  Him 
who  bade  you  undertake  this  life;  and  these  two 
things,  the  essential  beauty  of  a  holy  life  and  the 
love  of  Christ,  will  drive  the  baser  thoughts  away, 
and  set  the  face  unflinchingly  toward  the  celestial 
light. 

Pray  the  largest  prayers.  You  cannot  think  a 
prayer  so  large  that  God,  in  answering  it,  will  not 
wish  that  you  had  made  it  larger.  Pray  not  for 
crutches  but  for  wings!  Oh,  do  not  pray  just  that 
God  will  keep  you  from  breaking  down,  and  some- 
how, anyhow,  help  you  to  stagger  and  stumble 
through ;  pray  for  His  light  and  life  to  come  and  fill 
you,   that  you   may  live  like   Him ;    that  you  may 


I04  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

tread  temptation  under  foot  and  walk  across  it  into 
holiness ;  that  you  may  be  enthusiastically  good ; 
that  you  may  shine  forth  with  His  light  on  other 
lives;  that,  whatever  comes — and  He  alone  knows 
what  is  to  come, — whatever  comes  of  trial,  doubt, 
perplexity,  failure,  as  well  as  of  success  and  faith 
and  hope  and  joy,  it  may  all  work  together  to  make 
your  soul  fit,  first  to  receive,  and  then  to  shine  forth 
with,  the  light  of  God. 

May  God  give  us  all  grace  to  pray  that  prayer! 

Of  what  supreme,  almighty  power 

Is  Thy  great  arm,  which  spans  the  east  and  west, 
And  tacks  the  centre  to  the  sphere  ! 

By  it  do  all  things  live  their  measured  hour  : 
We  cannot  ask  the  thing  which  is  not  there, 

Shaming  the  shallowness  of  our  request  ! 

Almighty  God,  the  Fountain  of  all  wisdom,  Who  knowest  our 
necessities  before  we  ask  and  our  ignorance  in  asking  ;  we  beseech 
Thee  to  have  compassion  on  our  infirmities  ;  and  those  things  which 
for  our  unworthiness  we  dare  not,  and  for  our  blindness  we  cannot 
ask,  vouchsafe  to  give  us,  for  the  worthiness  of  Thy  Son,  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


nDon^a1?  after  the  ZTbirb  Sunbai?. 

And  the  Lord  said  unto  him,  This  is  the  land  which  I  sware  unto 
Abraham  and  Isaac  and  Jacob,  saying,  I  will  give  it  unto  thy  seed. 
I  have  caused  thee  to  see  it  with  thine  eyes,  but  thou  shalt  not  go 
over  thither. — Deut.,  xxxiii.,  4. 

There  must  have  been  in  Moses'  mind,  when  he 
thought  over  his  hfe,  a  strong  consciousness  of  the 
opportunities  of  inward  and  spiritual  culture  which 
God  had  opened  to  him  even  in  and  through  the 
failure  of  his  plan  of  life.  ...  In  his  repent- 
ance and  confession  of  personal  sin,  he  had  come 
nearer  to  Jehovah  than  when  he  received  his  com- 
mission at  the  burning  bush,  or  when  he  abode  forty- 
days  in  the  mingled  cloud  and  glory  on  Mount 
Sinai.  And  now,  as  the  result  of  all,  a  patient,  lov- 
ing confidence  in  God;  a  deep  distrust  of  himself;  a 
craving  for  inner  purity  more  than  for  any  outward 
glory ;  a  pure,  deep  love  overrunning  with  gratitude 
for  forgiveness,  which  had  deepened  with  every 
deepening  appreciation  of  the  sin, — all  this  was  fill- 

105 


Io6  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

ing  the  heart  of  the  venerable  man  as  he  went  forth 
with  God,  pondering  the  failure  of  his  life. 

And  this  same  richness  of  comfort  has  come  to 
many  a  man  out  of  the  failure  of  his  hopes.  You 
come  up  to  the  certainty  that  you  are  not  going  to 
accomplish  that  which  you  once  meant  to  do,  that 
which  you  might  have  done  if  you  had  not  wilfully 
sinned.  You  take  your  last  fond  look  on  the 
Canaan  of  accomplishment  which  you  are  not  to 
enter.  You  say,  "  I  shall  never  do  what  I  dreamed 
of  doing,"  but  at  the  same  time  there  rises  up  in 
you  another  strong  assurance, — "  God  has  done  in 
me  what  I  do  not  see  how  He  could  have  done 
except  out  of  my  broken  hopes  and  foiled  endeav- 
ors."  You  are  not  glad  that  you  have  sinned;  you 
are  sure  all  the  time  that,  if  you  could  have  stood 
sinless,  some  nobler  character  still  would  have  been 
trained  in  you,  but  you  never  can  think  of  your  sin 
without  feeling  alongside  of  it  all  that  God  has  done 
for  you  through  it.  The  culture  of  penitence  is 
there,  the  dearer,  nearer  sense  of  God  which  has 
come  from  so  often  going  to  Him  with  a  broken 
heart,  the  yearning  for  an  hourly  dependence  on 
Him,  the  craving,  almost  agonizing  knowledge  of 
the  goodness  of  holiness  which  only  came  to  you 
when  you  lost  it,  the  value  of  spiritual  life  above  all 


MONDAY   AFTER  THE   THIRD    SUNDAY.         10/ 

visible  and  physical  delight  or  comfort,  and  a  grati- 
tude for  forgiveness  which  has  turned  the  whole  life 
into  a  psalm  of  praise  or  a  labor  of  consecration, — 
these  are  the  cultures  by  which  God  bears  witness 
of  Himself  to  numberless  lives  that  have  failed  of 
their  full  achievement. 

But  take  another  thought.  The  whole  question 
of  how  much  Moses  knew  of  immortality  is  very 
indistinct,  but  it  is  impossible  to  think  that,  .  .  . 
in  this  supreme  moment  his  great  soul  did  not  attain 
to  the  great,  universal  human  hope.  It  must  have 
come  to  him  that  this  which  seemed  like  an  end  was 
not  an  end;  that  while  the  current  of  the  Jewish 
History  swept  on  without  him,  for  him  too  there 
was  a  future,  a  life  to  live,  a  work  to  do  somewhere, 
with  the  God  who  took  him  by  the  hand  and  led 
him  away.  .  .  .  And  as  the  scene  grew  dim 
and  misty,  and  Canaan  floated  more  and  more  in- 
distinct before  his  darkening  eyes,  the  vision  of  the 
other  life  grew  brighter,  and  the  hands  which  had 
been  almost  torn  away  from  their  beloved  labor  here 
were  reached  out,  full  of  the  skill  which  that  toil 
had  taught  them,  for  their  everlasting  task. 

And  here  must  always  be  the  final  explanation, 
the  complete  and  satisfying  explanation  of  human 
failures.     Without  this  truth  of  another  hfe,  there 


I08  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

can  be  no  clearness ;  all  is  dreary  darkness.  A  man 
has  failed  in  all  the  purposes  of  his  life.  .  .  . 
What  is  there  left  for  him  ?  He  dwells  upon  the 
culture  which  has  come  to  him  in  and  from  his  fail- 
ure, .  .  .  but  what  of  ///;;/, — this  precious 
human  thing,  this  single  personal  existence,  the  soul 
with  all  its  life  and  loves  ?  Is  that  indeed  just 
thrown  aside  like  a  dead  cinder,  out  of  which  all  the 
power  has  been  burnt. 

Then  comes  Christ's  truth  of  immortality.  Not 
so !  This  failure  is  not  final.  The  life  that  has  so 
fallen  short  is  not  yet  done.  It  has  been  tried  and 
found  wanting.  But  by  its  own  consciousness  of 
weakness  it  is  made  ready  for  a  new  trial  in  a  higher 
strength.  It  has  learned  humility,  self-distrust, 
dependence  on  God ;  with  these  new  equipments  it 
will  start  afresh,  and  out  of  failure  will  come  at  last 
success.  That  is  the  truth  which  deepest  and  warm- 
est lays  itself  on  the  disappointed  heart,  and  makes 
it  glow  again. 

And  so  the  whole  story  of  a  man's  life  is  not  told 
when  it  is  simply  written  of  him  that  he  was  found 
unworthy,  and  did  not  do  the  thing  which  he  set 
out  to  do.  Oh,  bear  me  witness,  all  of  you  men 
and  women  who  have  hoped  and  failed,  that  that 
first  fact  of  failure  is  true  of  all  of  us !     The  only 


MONDAY  AFTER  THE  THIRD   SUNDAY.         IO9 

escape  from  it  is  in  low,  poor  ambitions  that  do  not 
fail  only  because  they  never  aspire.  But  the  real 
question  is  :  How  does  your  failure  leave  you  ? 
Are  you  conscious  of  culture  ?  glorying  in  God  ? 
glad  to  see  others  do  the  work  which  you  cannot 
do  ?  and  ready  for  the  new  career  in  the  other  life  ? 
If  that  be  your  condition,  then  your  failure  is  re- 
deemed. The  sands  will  run  out  unnoticed  here, 
but  God  makes  ready  a  place  for  that  new  work 
which  has  grown  possible  through  the  failure  of  the 
old.  *'  This  my  son  was  dead  and  is  alive  again," 
He  says ;  "he  was  lost  and  is  found. "  He  tenderly 
buries  the  old  life  in  forgiveness,  and  opens  before 
the  new  life  the  gates  of  hope. 

To  know  these  truths  by  heart  is  to  assure  the 
richness,  the  happiness,  and  the  ultimate  success 
of  life.  They  are  the  truths  of  Moses,  but  they  are 
also  the  truths  of  Christ.  The  song  of  Moses  is  also 
the  song  of  the  Lamb.  May  He  teach  them  to  all 
of  us  who  have  yet  our  lives  to  live ! 

For  to  the  faithful  there  is  no  such  thing 

As  disappointment ;  failures  only  bring 

A  gentle  pang,  as  peacefully  they  say, 

"His  purpose  stands,  though  mine  has  passed  away." 

All  is  fulfilling,  all  is  working  still, 
To  teach  thee  flexibility  of  will  ; 


no  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

To  great  achievements  let  thy  wishes  soar, 
Yet  meek  submission  pleases  Christ  still  more. 

O  Blessed  Spirit,  Lord  and  Life-giver,  forsake  me  not,  though  in 
my  folly  I  may  have  grieved  Thee.  Teach  me  still,  warn  me  still, 
guide  me  still,  so  that  I  may  advance  more  and  more  in  the  path  of 
a  holy  life,  until  I  come  to  Thine  everlasting  kiBgdom  ;  for  Jesus 
Christ's  sake.     Amen. 


?rue0&a?  after  tbe  Z^blr^  Sunbai?. 

If  ye  keep  my  commandments,  ye  shall  abide  in  my  love  ;  even  as 
I  have  kept  my  Father's  commandments  and  abide  in  His  love. — 
John,  xv.,  io. 

There  is  another  word  of  Christ,  spoken  on  the 
same  evening  [of  the  institution  of  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per], which  we  can  hardly  help  taking  in  connection 
with  this.  It  is  that  in  which  He  states  exactly  the 
converse  of  what  this  verse  declares.  **  If  ye  keep 
my  commandments,  ye  shall  abide  in  my  love,"  He 
says  here;  "If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  command- 
ments," He  had  said  just  before.  See  how  the  two 
belong  together!  Love  utters  itself  in  Duty,  and 
Duty  strengthens  Love.  If  Duty  grows  weak,  it 
must  climb  to  the  Fountain-head  of  Love,  and 
drink.  If  Love  grows  doubtful  and  hesitates,  it 
must  lean  and  steady  itself  on  the  strong  staff  of 
Duty. 

You  see  how  it  all  points  to  the  beautiful  com- 
pleteness of  the  world,  in  which  there  comes  no  love 

III  , 


112  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

without  its  duty,  and  no  duty  without  its  love.  It 
is  a  most  inspiring  thought,  that  never  yet  did  God 
put  any  high  emotion  in  the  soul  of  any  of  His  chil- 
dren that  God's  world  did  not  instantly  stand  before 
that  child  with  a  duty  in  its  hand,  saying,  "  This  is 
the  task  which  belongs  to  your  new  emotion.  Do 
this  task  and  the  emotion  shall  be  really  yours ;  not 
merely  the  fleeting  gleam  of  a  passing  sunbeam  on 
your  bosom,  but  the  settled  warmth  of  a  perpetual 
sunshine  in  your  heart."  How  invariable  that  is! 
Never  does  a  new  love  descend  from  Heaven  that  a 
new  duty  does  not  spring  out  of  the  earth.  God 
fills  your  soul  with  pity,  and  the  beggar  instantly 
knocks  at  your  gate.  God  gives  you  courage,  and 
the  haunted  wretch  flees  under  your  strong  arm  for 
protection.  God  gives  you  light,  and  the  cloud  of 
some  ignorance  rolls  up  out  of  the  night,  demanding 
your  daylight  for  its  dispersion. 

And  if  the  love  hesitates,  if  it  does  not  see  or 
does  not  like  its  task,  if  it  prefers  to  turn  its  gaze 
inward  and  feast  on  its  own  beauty,  if  it  is  content 
with  simply  loving — what  then  ?  Why,  it  perishes ! 
O  you  who  are  to-day  wondering  where  your  faith 
has  gone,  remember!  when  God  gave  yoxi  faith y  He 
gave  you  also  commandment.  On  that  bright  morn- 
ing when  you  believed  something  enthusiastically,  a 


TUESDAY   AFTER  THE  THIRD   SUNDAY.        II3 

duty,  something  to  do,  sprang  into  existence  as 
the  brother,  the  twin,  of  your  behef.  Did  you  bid 
them  embrace  ?  Did  you  give  them  to  one 
another  ?  Did  you  say  to  your  faith,  "  Go,  justify 
and  confirm  your  Hfe  by  doing  that  "  ?  If  you  did 
not,  it  is  no  wonder  that  your  faith  has  faded  and  is 
almost  gone.  It  is  not  yet  too  late;  go,  run  to  it 
with  its  duty  as  you  would  run  to  a  starving  man 
with  bread.  Do  something  with  your  religion,  and 
your  religion  will  not  die. 

**  As  I  have  kept  my  Father's  commandments, 
and  abide  in  His  love,"  said  Jesus; — how  graciously 
He  uses  His  own  experience  to  strengthen  ours ! 
Not  even  the  love  which  was  between  the  Father 
and  the  Son,  He  says,  is  so  exalted  as  to  outgo  this 
law,— that  duty  and  love  belong  together.  Even 
the  eternal  abiding  of  the  Son  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father's  affection  has  to  feed  itself  on  the  Son's 
doing  of  the  commandments  of  the  Father.  Who, 
then,  are  you  and  I  that  we  should  think  that  ever- 
lasting law  can  be  suspended  or  restrained  for  us  ? 
Who  are  we  that  we  should  think  that  in  us  the 
fire  of  love  can  burn  without  the  fuel  of  duty  ? 

O  Thou  in  whom  we  live  and  move, 
Whose  love  is  law,  whose  law  is  love, 
Whose  present  Spirit  waits  to  fill 


114  'THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

The  soul  that  comes  to  do  Thy  will ! 
Unto  our  waiting  spirits  teach 
Thy  love  beyond  the  power  of  speech, 
And  bid  us  feel  with  joyful  awe 
The  omnipresence  of  Thy  law  ! 

O  God,  Fountain  of  Love  and  Source  of  Law ;  grant  that  in  obey- 
ing I  may  know  Thy  love,  and  that  in  loving  I  may  fulfil  Thy  law  : 
Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


Me&ne6&a?  after  tbe  ^Tbirb  Sunbap* 

The  beauty  of  holiness. — Ps.  xxix.,  2. 

Men  have  debated  what  constituted  beauty,  and 
been  as  far  from  agreeing  on  its  theory  as  they  were 
unanimous  in  recognizing  its  dominion.  Without 
entering  deeply  into  the  metaphysics  of  the  matter, 
we  may  say  in  general  that  the  theories  of  beauty 
which  men  have  held  are  mostly  reducible  to  three, 
which  may  be  called  the  Absolute,  the  Ideal,  and 
the  Utilitarian.  ...  If  there  be  beauty  in  a 
pure  and  pious  life,  shall  we  not  see  it  unfolding 
itself  and  answering  in  its  own  way  to  each  of  these 
different  conceptions  of  what  beauty  is,  so  that 
he  who  judged  beauty  absolutely,  or  ideally,  or  by 
utiHty,  should  find  something  truly  beautiful  in  a 
goodness  inspired  by  the  love  of  God, — for  that  is 
what  we  mean  by  holiness. 

It  is  a  truth  that  is  attested  by  all  the  history  of 
man  living  with  his  fellow-man,  that  there  is  in 
human  nature  a  spiritual  aesthetic  sense  which  takes 

115 


Il6  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

pleasure  in  the  sight  of  simple  goodness,  just  as 
there  is  a  taste  which  delights  in  the  beautiful  curves 
and  colors  of  material  things.  It  is  in  man,  un- 
tainted and  unspoiled,  to  be  stirred  into  pleasure 
by  a  pure,  good  life  in  a  way  that  will  give  no  other 
account  of  itself  but  just  this — that  the  thing  is 
spiritually  beautiful  and  appeals  to  a  spiritual  power 
in  us  that  apprehends  its  beauty.  .  .  .  It  is  this 
absolute,  self-testifying  beauty  of  the  holy  lives  which 
has  been  the  strong  extensive  power  of  Christianity. 
It  is  the  power  of  the  Sainthoods.  There  is  that  in 
man  to  which  they  everlastingly  appeal.  It  ought 
to  make  any  man  tremble  for  his  own  nature  if  they 
do  not  appeal  to  him.  If  any  man  pointed  to  the 
blue  winter  sky  and  said,  **  How  beautiful  it  is!" 
and  you  could  see  no  loveliness  there,  you  would  not 
dare  to  deny  that  it  was  lovely,  but  would  have  to 
feel  that  you  were  growing  blind.  So  if  a  holy  life 
has  no  charm  for  you,  it  is  you  and  not  the  holy  life 
that  is  dishonored.  You  ought  to  grow  anxious, 
very  anxious,  for  your  own  soul. 

Each  of  us  has  in  his  own  heart  some  outline, 
some  suggestion  of  the  best  humanity.  .  .  . 
When  holiness  shines  out  before  us  in  some  holy 
man,  it  is  not  something  foreign,  unfamiliar.  It  is 
recognized   as   the   completion    of    what    we   have 


WEDNESDAY  AFTER    THE  THIRD   SUNDAY.     11/ 

known  so  incompletely.  It  is  the  fulfilment  of  a 
thousand  prophecies,  the  ideal  after  which  the  real 
in  us  has  been  so  blindly  struggling.  Think  of  St. 
John.  Have  you  never  known,  as  you  read  his  Rev- 
elation, that  here,  in  the  great  radiance  of  the  spirit 
that  surrounded  him,  was  the  full  glory  of  those 
stray  and  sickly  beams  that  through  your  murky 
atmosphere  had  fallen  on  your  life  ?  Just  in  propor- 
tion as  a  man  has  really  struggled  will  he  see  the 
beauty  of  the  full  success.  And  when  a  man, 
charmed  with  the  ideal  beauty  of  a  holy  life,  starts 
out  afresh,  encouraged  by  the  sight  of  perfectness, 
and  dedicates  his  life  anew  to  God,  enthusiastic, 
earnest,  all  afire  with  hope — then  he  is  worshipping 
the  Lord  in  the  beauty  of  holiness. 

So  holiness  in  the  w^orld  Jielps  men.  It  is  not 
merely  a  light  hung  out,  however  brilliant,  to  attract 
their  admiration.  The  same  new  sort  of  beauty 
that  the  stars  acquired  when  men  passed  from 
regarding  them  as  merely  brilliant  spots  in  space, 
and  saw  that  they  could  use  them,  could  steer  under 
their  guidance  over  the  midnight  sea, — that  same 
new  sort  of  beauty  holiness  obtains  when  any  man 
begins  to  see  that  it  is  not  only  a  wonderful  phe- 
nomenon, not  merely  an  accidental  and  delightful 
meeting  of  certain  qualities,  but  may  be  an  inspira- 


Il8  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

tion  and  a  help  to  him.  Close  by  your  side,  a 
fellow-man  is  living  a  self-sacrificing,  patient,  godly, 
manly  life.  You  know  that  it  is  beautiful  ;  but 
some  day  you  drop  discouraged,  and  that  strong  life 
beside  you  gathers  you  up  and  sets  you  on  your 
feet  ;  or,  better  still,  some  day  something  makes 
you  aware  that  that  holiness  which  you  have  been 
living  with  has  been  helping  you  all  the  way  along, 
when  you  never  dreamed  of  it.  Tell  me,  has  it  not 
grown  more  beautiful,  has  not  a  warmth  and  dear- 
ness  entered  into  the  light  with  which  it  shone 
before  ? 

In  illustration  of  all  this  let  us  think  a  moment  of 
the  holiness  of  Jesus.  One  thing  is  sure,  that  in 
the  holiest  life  the  world  has  ever  known  men  have 
seen  also  the  most  beautiful  life.  All  the  different 
theories  of  beauty  that  men  have  found  are  satisfied 
by  that  supreme  excellence  of  Jesus.  The  absolute- 
ness of  beauty  is  seen  in  the  instinctive  and  unreas- 
oning way  with  which  the  Life  of  the  Gospels  has 
enchained  the  world's  affection.  It  has  found  out 
the  spiritual  aesthetic  faculty  in  man.  Children  have 
felt  its  beauty.  Theologies  have  wrapped  their 
mists  of  speculation  round  it,  but  lying  behind  all, 
it  has  pierced  through  and  found  men's  hearts,  and 
told  them  of  its  beauty. 


WEDNESDAY  AFTER   THE   THIRD   SUNDAY.     1 19 

And  then  the  ideal  beauty  of  the  holiness  of 
Jesus,  that,  too,  has  not  been  hidden.  With  won- 
derful clearness  men  are  seeing  in  Him  every  day 
the  perfectness  of  all  their  imperfection.  **  Why, 
that  is  I,  only  completely  and  absolutely  pure!" 
the  soul  says  when  it  sees  Jesus  struggling  with 
temptation,  or  pitying  a  sufferer,  or  going  to  His 
death  in  agony. 

And  what  shall  we  say  about  the  beauty  of  util- 
ity ?  Every  one  who  has  used  Jesus  knows  it,  every 
one  who  has  trusted  Him  in  perplexity,  leaned  on 
Him  in  weakness,  drank  of  His  consolations  in 
trouble,  clung  to  Him  in  the  hour  of  death.  That 
is  a  beauty  that  will  not  come  out  to  us  perfectly 
till  in  some  other  world  we  shall  see  how  much  He 
has  helped  us,  and  own  His  perfect  beauty  in  the 
light  of  our  complete  salvation. 

The  prophet  Zechariah  has  a  strange  verse  in 
which  he  tells  how  he  brought  the  people  who  were 
entrusted  to  him  to  the  Lord, — ''  I  took  unto  me 
two  staves ;  the  one  I  called  Beauty  and  the  other  I 
called  Bands."  Beauty  and  Bands,  Beauty  and 
Duty,  so  God  rules  the  world!  He  would  rather 
tempt  us  with  His  beauty  than  bind  us  with  His 
bands;  it  is  better  to  be  urged  on  by  the  inspira- 
tions  than    to    be    driven    by    the    compulsions    of 


I20  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

holiness.  There  is  a  great  lack  among  us  of  the 
enthusiasm  of  consecration,  the  enthusiasm  of  God. 
When  I  think  how  our  lives  might  be  psalms,  how, 
going  on  after  Christ  our  Master,  we  might  be  filled 
with  the  joy  of  honoring  such  a  Leader  and  entering 
daily  into  such  a  Life, — then  these  days  which  we 
do  live,  even  the  very  best  of  them,  seem  dull  and 
spiritless.  By  all  your  dissatisfactions,  by  every 
glimpse  that  you  have  ever  had  that  you  were  made 
for  better  things,  I  call  on  you  to  open  your  eyes  to 
the  tawdriness,  the  ugliness  of  a  worldly  life!  And 
then  before  you  burns  the  Beauty  of  Holiness.  Per- 
fectly independent  of  our  temporal  conditions,  shin- 
ing alike  in  rich  and  poor,  not  quenched  by  trouble, 
not  outshone  by  joy,  visible  to  God  even  when  no 
man  sees  it,  and  at  last  made  clearer  and  not  dimmer 
by  the  river  that  we  all  must  cross — that  is  possible 
for  every  one  of  you.  In  that  beauty  worship  the 
Lord.  For  the  deepening  of  that  beauty  in  our  own 
lives,  let  us  pray  and  strive  and  sacrifice  everything 
besides.  Let  sin  grow  more  and  more  ugly  as  we 
come  more  and  more  into  the  light.  So,  here  and 
hereafter,  we  shall  have  only  one  wish,  only  one 
petition,  "  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be 
upon  us." 


WEDNESDAY  AFTER  THE  THIRD   SUNDAY.     121 

We,  too,  would  wear  unspotted 

The  garments  of  the  King, 
Would  have  the  royal  perfume 

About  our  path  to  cling, 
And  unto  all  beholders 

A  lilied  beauty  bring. 

Open  mine  eyes,  O  Lord,  to  see  Thy  beauty,  and  seeing  it  to  love 
it,  and  loving  it  to  follow  after  it,  that  so  I  may  come  at  last  to  Thy 
heavenly  kingdom,  to  see  Thee  face-to-face  in  Thy  beauty,  O  King 
of  Kings  ;  who  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Spirit  art  one  God, 
world  without  end.     Amen. 


^bur6&a?  after  tbe  ^Mrb  Sim&a\?. 

Rejoice  in  the  Lord,  O  ye  righteous,  for  praise  is  comely  for  the 
upright. — Ps.,  xxxiii.,  I. 

With  joy  shall  ye  draw  water  out  of  the  wells  of  salvation. — IsA., 
xii.,  3. 

The  God  of  hope  fill  you  with  all  joy  and  peace  in  believing. — 
Rom.,  XV.,  13. 

There  is  an  old  question  which  is  constantly 
appearing  in  the  minds  of  thoughtful  people; — it  is 
the  question  how  far  the  deeper  purpose  of  life 
needs  to  be  a  conscious  and  constantly  remembered 
thing.  Is  it  possible  and  is  it  good  that  in  your 
learning,  your  working,  or  your  suffering,  you  should 
have  present  with  you  the  idea  that  each  of  them  is 
of  value  for  something  deeper  than  itself,  and  should 
be  constantly  asking  yourself  whether  that  deeper 
something  has  been  reached  ?  Or  is  it  best  that  you 
should  just  forget  the  deeper  purpose,  and,  perfect- 
ing the  form  of  life  as  thoroughly  as  possible,  should 
trust  the  purpose,  of  itself,  to  send  its  power  through 
the   perfected   form  ?     No   man   may   undertake   to 

122 


THURSDAY    AFTER   THE   THIRD    SUNDAY.       1 23 

make  a  large  rule  which  shall  apply  to  all ;  but  cer- 
tainly to  nine  men  out  of  ten  the  ever-constant  need 
is  of  some  such  thoughtfulness  about  the  final  pur- 
pose of  life  as  can  only  be  reached  by  the  great 
Christian  truth  that  man  is  made  to  be,  and  by 
Christ's  regeneration  ought  to  become,  the  son  of 
God. 

And  one  of  the  clearest  places  where  this  need 
appears  is  in  the  lack  of  that  buoyancy  and  fresh- 
ness, combined  with  and  largely  dependent  upon 
quick,  large  sympathy,  which  is  so  wofully  lacking 
in  many  an  intelligent,  conscientious,  patient  man. 
The  intelligent  man  turns  into  a  pedant,  the  con- 
scientious man  turns  into  a  drudge,  the  patient  man 
grovels  like  a  worm.  .  .  .  Though  we  give 
them  all  our  praise,  we  come  in  the  course  of  time 
to  expect  most  of  the  buoyancy  and  interest  of  life, 
not  from  them,  but  from  their  opposites,  from  the 
man  who  seeks  no  higher  knowledge,  who  owns  no 
rigid  service  to  duty,  and  who  lightly  tosses  off  all 
his  burdens.  But  yet  the  higher  lives,  the  lives  of 
conscientiousness,  certainly  must  be  capable  of  a 
freshness  and  a  buoyancy  that  is  wholly  beyond  the 
power  of  any  light  irresponsibility.  God's  life  is  the 
fountain  and  mainspring  of  the  universe.  And  what 
the  dull  scholar,   the  mechanical    plodder   and    the 


124  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

dogged  sufferer  need,  to  make  their  lives  bright  and 
their  doing  of  their  several  duties  beautiful,  is  not 
more  levity  but  more  profoundness ;  not  less  serious- 
ness, but  more.  Oh!  it  seems  to  me  as  if  there 
were  few  things  in  the  world  that  are  more  sad  than 
the  dreariness  of  many  good  people,  who  have  lost 
the  superficial  charm  which  people  have,  no  doubt, 
that  live  only  in  the  senses,  and  have  not  reached 
the  true  attractiveness  of  men  who  are  living  in  the 
conscience  and  the  soul.  Their  fellows  shake  their 
heads  at  them  and  call  them  "  too  good,"  and  in  a 
certain  sense  they  are  right.  These  people  are  "  too 
good  "  for  the  life  of  butterflies,  but  the  real  secret 
of  their  dreariness  is  that  they  are  not  good  enough. 
They  have  not  reached  the  central  seriousness  of 
living,  wherein  is  joy  and  brightness  and  perpetual 
enthusiasm.  It  is  the  half-seriousness  that  is  gloomy. 
The  full  seriousness,  the  life  lived  in  its  deepest  con- 
sciousness, is  as  full  of  joy  as  it  is  full  of  soberness. 
You  leave  the  earth  with  its  bright  flowers  behind 
you  as  you  rise ;  you  find  yourself  among  the  clouds, 
and  then  you  think  how  bright  the  earth  was,  and 
lament  the  duty  that  carries  you  into  such  unpleas- 
ant places;  but  you  rise  still,  and  soon,  beyond  the 
clouds,  there  are  the  sunlight  and  the  illimitable 
ether  full  of  peace. 


THURSDAY  AFTER  THE   THIRD   SUNDAY.      12$ 

And  so  I  am  sure  that  the  peace  of  any  man's 
soul  who  has  outgrown  mere  self-indulgence,  can 
only  come  by  going  forward — on  into  the  deepest 
principles  and  final  causes  of  the  things  he  does. 
Put  God  underneath  all  your  life,  and  your  life  must 
rest  on  the  everlasting  arms. 

.     .     .     Because  that  I  have  had 
Delights  that  should  have  made  to  overflow 

My  cup  of  gladness,  and  have  not  been  glad, 
All  in  the  midst  of  plenty  poor  I  live. 

O  God,  grant  that  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  may  never  cease  to 
shine  within  my  heart,  and  to  fill  me  with  continual  joy.  And  so 
may  the  desert  places  of  my  nature  rejoice  and  blossom  as  the  rose, 
and  the  earthly  within  me  be  changed  into  the  heavenly,  to  Thy 
praise  and  glory,  through  the  same  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


frl^a^  after  tbe  ^bir&  Sunba?. 

He  that  hath  the  Son,  hath  life. — i  John,  v.,  12. 
He  that  heareth  My  word,  and  believeth  on  Him  that  sent  Me, 
.     .     .     is  passed  from  death  unto  life. — John,  v.,  24. 

Life  was  Christ's  favorite  word.  Life  was  what 
He  was  always  praising  and  promising.  Life  was 
the  test  by  which  He  tried  all  the  powers  that  He 
met  with.  If  they  nourished  and  increased  life, 
they  were  good;  if  they  injured  and  decreased  it, 
they  were  bad.  Life  was  His  own  claim  and  cre- 
dential. That  He  gave  man  life  was  the  ground  of 
His  demand  for  men's  allegiance;  that  He  saved 
them  from  death  was  the  burden  of  His  self-asser- 
tion. He  was  divine;  He  was  eternal;  all  vitality 
was  at  its  perfection  in  Him,  infinite,  imperishable. 
We  should  have  to  be  something  like  Him,  catch 
something  of  His  feeling  about  the  beauty  and 
gloriousness  of  life,  before  we  could  feel  the  horror 
which  He  constantly  sums  up  into  that  word,  death, 
as  the  mere  negative  of  life.     But  this  we  can  do, 

126 


FRIDAY   AFTER  THE  THIRD   SUNDAY.  12/ 

we  can  feel  how  one  great  difference  between  Jesus 
and  most  of  the  other  teachers  who  have  bidden  men 
abstain  from  sin  is  that  while  they  decried  sin  be- 
cause it  brought  pain,  or  because  it  hurt  other  peo- 
ple, or  because  it  destroyed  order,  or  because  it  was 
unlovely,  Christ  is  supreme  in  this  idea,  which  runs 
through  every  word  He  speaks — that  sin  is  dreadful 
because  it  is  death,  because  it  is  so  much  cut  out  of 
the  world's  and  the  man's  vitality,  because  it  is 
destruction  of  the  very  essence  of  manhood,  because 
to  do  wrong  as  a  man  is,  in  so  far,  to  cease  to  live  as 
a  man.  That  is  Christ's  idea.  That  is  what  He  is 
always  insisting  upon  when  He  calls  goodness  life 
and  wickedness  death.  That  was  the  reason  why, 
from  the  heights  of  His  divinity  and  thrilling  with 
the  consciousness  of  immortality,  He  hated  wicked- 
ness and  loved  goodness  as  no  other  being  ever  has, 
and  why  He  was  willing  to  die  in  what  we  call  death, 
if  thereby  He  could  save  men  from  that  wickedness 
which  was  the  death  He  really  dreaded  for  them. 

It  is  hard  to  over-estimate  the  change  that  would 
come  to  us  and  our  way  of  looking  at  life  if  we  got 
thoroughly  into  us  the  idea  which,  it  seems  to  me, 
was  beyond  all  question  Christ's  idea,  and  is  Involved 
in  his  use  of  the  words  life  and  death.  What  does 
He  mean  when  He  calls  goodness  life,  and  wicked- 


128  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

ness  death  ?  Is  it  a  hard  and  barren  statement  that 
life  is  the  consequence  of  goodness,  and  death  is  the 
consequence  of  sin,  that  God  means  to  kill  the 
wicked  and  save  the  good  alive  ?  *'  Goodness  is 
life,"  says  Jesus;  **  wickedness  is  death."  Must 
He  not  mean  that  the  essence,  the  primary  idea,  the 
deepest  meaning  of  human  life  is  goodness  ?  That 
was  what  God  made  man  for.  That  is  his  essential 
existence.  Not  to  be  good,  then,  to  be  wicked,  is 
to  fail  of  this  essential  existence ;  it  is  not  to  live,  it 
is  to  die.  **  The  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die," — is 
that  a  threat  ?  Is  it  not  the  deep  utterance  of  a 
truth  ?  Indeed,  there  cannot  be  a  threat  that  is  not 
the  deep  utterance  of  a  truth,  for  no  man  can  per- 
manently suffer  except  by  the  eternal  necessities  of 
things, — not  by  whim,  but  by  law.  Is  it  not,  then, 
as  if  it  said,  *'  The  soul  that  sinneth  dies,  dies  m  its 
sinning,  dies  because  for  a  soul  there  is  no  life  but 
holiness  ?  "  As  a  stream  that  flows  no  longer  ceases 
to  be  a  stream,  as  the  sun  that  shines  no  longer  is 
no  longer  a  sun,  as  the  tree  that  buds  and  blooms  no 
more  is  no  more  a  tree,  so  the  man  who  has  ceased 
to  be  good  has  ceased  to  be  a  man ;  just  so  far  as  he 
has  ceased  to  be  good,  he  has  ceased  to  be  a  man. 

We  write  upon  the  pages  of  our  copy-books,  "  To 
err  is  human."     It  has  a  truth  in  it,  but  it   is  a 


FRIDAY  AFTER  THE   THIRD   SUNDAY.  1 29 

superficial  truth.  It  means  that  the  habit  of  human- 
ity is  to  err.  Christ  comes  and  says,  "  To  do  right 
is  human, ' '  declaring  the  profound  truth.  He  means 
that  the  purpose  and  nature  of  humanity  is  to  do 
right.  To  sin  is  to  fail  of  human  life.  That  is  what 
He  surely  means  when  He  calls  sin  death.  It  was 
the  same  truth  that  His  Incarnation  uttered,  put 
into  words  which  were  continually  upon  the  lips  of 
the  Incarnate. 

It  is  good  to  turn  the  truth  the  other  way  for  a 
moment,  and  see  what  it  can  teach  us.  "  To  sin  is 
just  so  far  to  cease  to  live,"  we  said,  catching 
Christ's  idea.  May  we  not  also  say,  "  To  cease  to 
live  is  just  so  far  to  sin  "  ?  There  are  a  multitude 
of  useless  lives  around  us  of  which,  when  we  are 
asked,  *'  Are  such  lives  wicked  ?  "  we  reply,  "  Oh, 
no;  they  do  no  harm."  We  cannot  say  that  they 
do  any  good,  indeed.  They  are  self-indulgent ;  they 
have  no  enterprise  ;  they  have  but  very  little  real 
vitality  of  brain  or  heart,  or  even  of  body.  We 
rather  hesitate  when  we  are  asked  to  call  them  good 
lives ;  but  no !  they  are  not  wicked,  certainly. 

But,  In  the  light  of  what  Christ  teaches  about  the 
connection  of  vitality  and  goodness,  they  arc  wicked. 
Do  you  remember,  in  the  Parable,  it  is  not  for  a 
misused  but  a  disused  talent  that  the  poor  servant  is 


I30  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

cast  into  outer  darkness  ?  The  young  man  who  has 
refused  to  use  his  brain  about  anything,  and  so 
stands  to-day  without  a  single  inteUigent  opinion 
about  those  things  that  are  of  eternal  consequence, 
— the  man  who  does  no  duty  because  he  has  taught 
other  men  and  himself  to  look  upon  him  as  an  unen- 
terprising, good-natured  mortal  to  whom  they  are  to 
bring  no  duties, — the  creature  who  sometimes  ven- 
tures to  demand  our  respect  for  the  very  qualities 
which  make  him  contemptible,  who  is  conservative 
because  radicalism  is  troublesome  and  calm  because 
enthusiasm  is  a  bore ; — all  these,  when  we  see  them 
as  Christ  sees  them,  we  shall  know  are  wicked  men. 
The  lazy  and  labor-saving  saint  is  a  sinner.  The 
man  who  is  not  vitally  good,  is  bad,  for  he  is  shut- 
ting his  heart  against  the  work  of  Him  who  came 
that  men  might  have  life. 

God  teach  us  all  that  to  be  alive  is  the  first  con- 
dition of  being  good ! 

O  Thou  from  whom  all  life  doth  flow, 

In  whom  doth  life  begin, 
Make  all  our  deeds  with  life  to  glow  ; 

Be  nothing  dead  but  sin  ! 

Be  Thou  in  us  the  life  to  will, 
The  eager  life  to  do  ; 


FRIDAY   AFTER   THE   THIRD   SUNDAY.  131 

Thy  life  through  all  our  living  thrill, 
And  still  our  life  renew 

Till  life  goes  on  by  life's  increase 

To  fuller  life  above  ; 
Where  life  is  light  and  joy  and  peace ; 

And,  best  of  all,  is  love. 

O  Lord  Jesus,  in  whose  hand  is  the  soul  of  every  living  thing  and 
the  breath  of  all  mankind,  to  the  lifeless  impart  life,  to  the  living 
increase  life  :  for  Thou  Thyself  art  the  Life,  and  apart  from  Thee 
we  have  no  life.     Amen. 


Saturba?  after  tbe  ZTblrb  Sunba?* 

As  the  Father  hath  life  in  Himself,  so  hath  He  given  to  the  Son 
to  have  life  in  Himself. — John,  v.,  26. 

Whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  Me,  shall  never  die. — John, 
xi.,  26. 

The  life  Christ  gives  to  us  is  not  a  new  creation, 
but  an  impartation  of  the  life  which  is  already  in 
Him.  Men  are  learning  to-day  that,  all  through 
the  world  of  physical  life,  there  is  never  any  crea- 
tion of  force :  it  is  transmitted  and  transmuted.  It 
passes  into  new  conditions,  and  shows  itself  in  new 
forms ;  but  it  is  always  the  same  essential  force  still. 
And  Religion,  rejoicing  in  this  great  discovery,  calls 
this  one  force  that  lives  in  many  forms  the  Will  of 
God.  So  Christ  teaches  us  that  there  are  not  many 
goodnesses  in  the  world,  but  only  one  Goodness, 
and  that  any  goodness  springing  up  to-day  in  any 
man's  heart,  and  taking  some  new,  beautiful,  strange 
shape,  is  not  a  new  creation.  It  is  but  the  trans- 
mitted goodness  of  the  All-good.     It  is  the  eternal 

132 


SATURDAY   AFTER  THE   THIRD    SUNDAY.       1 33 

and  universal  light  finding  its  way  into  one  more 
dark  corner,  and  clothing  one  more  hitherto  un- 
Jighted  thing  with  a  color  of  its  own.  There  is  but 
one  light  in  the  world — not  many,  though  there  be 
a  thousand  colors. 

It  is  strange  to  think  how  man's  mind  has  always 
held  by  this  idea — that  life  was  transmitted,  but  not 
created.  It  has  held  that  to  be  true  of  life  in  all  its 
grades,  even  in  the  most  palpable  physical  life. 
Man  has  an  instinctive  dislike  to  a  notion  of  spon- 
taneous generation  ;  it  seems  to  break  into  fragments 
his  notion  of  vitality.  The  child's  life  is  a  perpetu- 
ation of  the  father's.  Each  generation  transmutes 
the  vitality  of  the  generation  before  it  into  some  new 
shape.  Skill  passes  from  teacher  to  scholar.  Cour- 
age passes  from  the  strong  heart  to  the  weak  heart 
as  they  press  each  other  in  a  human  embrace. 
Enthusiasm  springs  from  eye  to  eye,  as  the  spark 
leaps  from  one  electric  point  to  another.  Every- 
where the  transmission  of  Hfe,  not  the  creation  of  life ! 

And  so  when  a  man  becomes  good,  what  is  it  ? 
Not  a  spontaneous  generation ;  not  a  sheer  leaping 
up  of  flame  as  if  there  had  never  been  any  fire  in  the 
universe  before,  but  a  transmission  of  the  Eternal 
Goodness, — a  repetition  in  the  soul  of  that  which 
took  place  in  the  body  when,  in  the  mysterious  words 


134  THE    MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

of  Genesis,  "  God  breathed  into  man's  nostrils  the 
breath  of  Hfe,  and  man  became  a  Hving  soul." 

Is  that  conceivable  ?  Is  it  credible  ?  Let  us 
understand  always  that  the  picture  of  what  Christ 
does  for  us  in  our  salvation  is  before  us  all  the  time 
in  what  men  do  for  one  another.  So  long  as  we  see 
men  give  themselves  to  one  another  and  the  power 
of  one  man  pass  into  another  man's  life,  so  long  it 
cannot  be  unintelligible  or  incredible  that  Christ 
gives  Himself  to  us;  so  long  as  one  illuminated 
object  casts  light  on  another,  so  long  can  I  believe 
that  the  sun  casts  his  light  on  them  all, — Christ  gives 
us  His  life.  You  cannot  give  another  what  you  have 
not  yourself.  You  cannot  put  power  into  the  wheel 
that  you  turn  that  is  not  first  in  the  arm  with  which 
you  turn  it ;  you  cannot  put  beauty  in  the  house 
you  build  that  is  not  first  in  the  soul  with  which  you 
plan  it.  It  is  your  strength  in  the  wheel  when  men 
see  it  turning;  it  is  your  beauty  that  is  in  the  house 
as  men  delight  in  it.  And  so  it  is  Christ's  righteous- 
ness which  clothes  the  righteous  soul  here,  and  in 
which  it  stands,  happy  and  pure  and  meritless,  at 
last.  "  He  that  hath  the  Son,  hath  life."  There 
has  been  no  addition  to  the  total  amount  of  good- 
ness in  the  universe.  There  has  been  only  the  im- 
parting of  His  goodness  to  new  beings,  the  shining 


SATURDAY  AFTER  THE  THIRD   SUNDAY.      1 35 

of  the  light  upon  new  surfaces.  For  God  is  infinite ; 
He  is  all  the  good  that  is  possible;  nothing  can  be 
added  to  Him.  And  when  that  sweet,  mysterious 
change  takes  place,  and  the  little  child  or  the  old 
man  becomes  holy,  it  is  his  turning  to  God  and 
receiving  part  of  the  hohness  which  has  been  in  the 
world  from  all  eternity.  It  is  not  a  new  creation, 
created  by  his  resolve ;  it  is  his  giving  himself  to 
Christ,  so  that  Christ  can  give  Himself  to  him. 

And  this  gift  of  Himself  has  its  analogies  and 
illustrations  in  all  the  ways  in  which  men  give  their 
lives  to  one  another.  Strangely,  all  these  analogies 
and  illustrations  include  another  truth  which  comes 
to  its  fulness  when  Christ  gives  His  life  to  men, — 
the  truth  of  the  necessity  of  sacrifice.  If  it  be  so 
(and  is  it  not  ?)  that  constantly  men  and  women  can 
give  what  is  best  in  themselves  to  other  men  and 
women  only  with  suffering,  then  it  surely  is  not 
strange  to  find  that  Christ  could  not  give  Himself  to 
man  without  a  pain  that  is  the  central  tragedy  of 
human  history.  He  could  not  give  Himself  to  us 
without  giving  Himself  for  us.  The  Fountain  out 
of  which  we  were  to  drink  until  it  became  in  us  a 
well  of  water  springing  up  to  everlasting  life,  could 
spring  only  from  the  foot  of  the  Cross  whereon  He 
died.     That  is  a  deep  mystery,  but  it  is  a  mystery 


136  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

whose  faint  echoes  I  find  everywhere  where  man 
gives  his  life  to  man,  and  so  a  mystery  whose  wonder 
kindles  and  does  not  quench  my  love. 

Christ  gives  men  life.  But  the  only  life  He  knows 
or  cares  to  give  men  is  goodness.  That  goodness 
He  gives  to  them  by  giving  Himself  for  them.  So 
the  pain  of  the  Incarnation  is  bound  close  to  the  joy 
of  the  Incarnation ;  you  cannot  separate  them ;  the 
Cross  belongs  with  the  Transfiguration.  The  angels 
who  watch  in  Gethsemane  are  the  same  angels  who 
sang  in  Bethlehem,  and  the  life  of  Jesus  completes 
and  glorifies  the  life  of  every  son  of  God  who,  trying 
to  make  his  brethren  **  have  life,"  enters  into  some 
feeble  but  real  share  both  of  the  pain  and  the  delight 
of  the  Redeemer. 

'T  is  the  sublime  of  man, 
Our  noontide  majesty,  to  know  ourselves 
Parts  and  proportions  of  one  glorious  whole  ! 
This  fraternizes  man  ;  this  constitutes 
Our  charities  and  bearings.     But  't  is  God 
Diffused  through  all  that  doth  make  all  one  whole. 

O  Jesus,  the  Fountain  of  all  good,  the  Fountain  of  life,  the 
Fountain  of  sweetness,  the  Fountain  of  grace,  the  Fountain  of  eter- 
nal wisdom,  most  mercifully  pour  down  on  me  now  the  gift  of 
heavenly  grace  ;  and  teach  me  ever  to  thank  Thee,  and  to  give 
myself  up  to  Thee  above  all,  because  this  is  the  dearest  offering  I 
can  make.     Amen. 


Ifourtb  Sunba^  in  Xent 

Then,  on  the  third  day,  Abraham  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  saw  the 
place  afar  off. — Gen.,  xxii.,  4. 

These  all  died  in  faith,  not  having  received  the  promises,  but 
having  seen  them  afar  ofT. — Heb.,  xi.,  13. 

Think  of  the  power  of  anticipation  everywhere. 
Think  of  the  difference  it  would  make  to  us  if  events 
rose  above  the  horizon  of  our  Hves  with  no  twiHght 
that  announced  their  coming.  God  has  given  man 
the  powers  which  compel  him  to  anticipate  the 
future  for  somctJiing.  The  lower  animals  do  not 
have  it.  They  play  "  regardless  of  their  fate,"  and 
they  walk  into  the  midst  of  the  deepest  happiness 
of  which  their  nature  is  capable  with  precisely  the 
same  unhoping,  unfearing,  unanticipating  stolidity 
with  which  they  walk  up  to  torture  and  to  death. 
But  when  you  look  at  man's  life,  you  feel  in  a  min- 
ute a  certain  richness  of  tone,  a  certain  deeper  hue 
of  life  which  comes  in  large  part  from  this — that  the 
man  is  living  always  in  anticipation,  that  the  things 

137 


138  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

which  wc  are  doing  at  any  one  moment  are  always 
bathed  in  a  color  that  comes  from  the  world  of  what 
we  expect  to  do,  and  that  the  feet  are  always  tread- 
ing with  a  reluctance  or  a  spring,  getting  their  whole 
movement  from  something  that  we  can  see  afar  off 
as  we  lift  our  eyes. 

Sometimes  a  great  coming  joy  is  seen  afar  off. 
Every  step  we  take  is  bringing  us  to  it ;  we  feel  its 
breath  upon  our  cheek;  its  light  is  in  our  eyes  as  we 
advance.  What  then  ?  When  it  comes,  it  will  be 
full  of  education,  we  are  sure.  God  will  have  some- 
thing to  teach  us  by  it.  If  we  think  at  all,  we  know 
well  enough  what  happiness  is  sent  for;  we  know 
that  its  lesson  is  gratitude.  We  know  that  God 
means  by  it  to  lay  a  great  weight  of  sunlight  upon 
the  icy  obstinacy  of  our  lives  that  His  bitter  winds 
have  only  stiffened  into  a  harder  stiffness,  and  melt 
it  away.  But  is  it  for  nothing  that  He  lets  us  see  it 
in  the  distance  ?  Is  it  not  a  part  of  His  culture  that 
He  allows  us  to  anticipate  a  coming  blessing  ?  The 
more  we  look  at  men,  the  more  we  know  it  is  good 
for  us  to  see  our  joys  beforehand.  Sudden  joy  is 
apt  to  be  feverish  and  excited.  W^e  leap  suddenly 
into  happiness,  and  it  seems  as  if  it  were  an  acci- 
dent. To  be  sure  we  call  such  sudden,  unexpected 
happiness  a  "  God-send,"   but  see  how  the  word 


FOURTH    SUNDAY   IN   LENT.  1 39 

has  lost  its  meaning  and  hardly  signifies  anything 
but  chance.  But  when  a  man  goes  on,  day  after 
day,  week  after  week,  walking  straight  up  towards  a 
great  delight  that  stands  there  waiting  for  him,  the 
excitement  has  time  to  die  away,  the  fever  can  sub- 
side, and  a  calm,  placid,  earnest  sense  of  "  How 
good  God  is  to  me!"  comes  gradually  and  folds 
him  around.  O  you  who  are  anticipating  happi- 
ness, be  sure  that  you  get  the  culture  of  your  antici- 
pation. It  is  a  great,  solemn  thing  to  be  happy 
when  all  happiness — from  the  joy  of  health  up  to 
the  bliss  of  salvation — all  means  a  loving  God.  We 
are  too  frivolous  about  our  joy.  We  think  of  sorrow 
only  as  serious  and  deep.  We  go  tinkling  the  bells 
that  ought  to  ring  with  litanies.  Humility,  trust, 
consecration — these  belong  in  God's  intention  to  the 
happy  no  less,  perhaps  more,  than  to  the  suffering 
moments  of  our  life. 

Else  where  would  be  the  culture  of  a  promised 
Heaven  ?  There  is  one  chapter  in  the  Bible — the 
eleventh  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews — 
whose  whole  burden  is  that — the  power  of  anticipated 
joy.  The  old  saints  are  seen,  one  by  one,  lifting  up 
their  eyes  and  seeing  the  Place  afar  off.  We  do  not 
step  all  at  once  across  the  line  and  find  ourselves 
in  an  unexpected  Heaven.     It  has   trained   us  for 


I40  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

itself  by  promising  us  itself  all  the  way.  God  grant 
that  we  may  all  be  ripening  under  that  culture 
now! 

But  turn  the  picture :  What  shall  we  say  about 
anticipated  sorrow  and  sufTering  ?  Before  you  there 
has  risen  the  image  of  a  suffering  that  is  coming  to 
you  just  as  surely  as  the  night  is  coming  over  this 
brilliant  afternoon.  It  is  very  far  off,  but  you  see  its 
certainty.  And  from,  the  moment  you  saw  it  first 
(whatever  it  is — a  disease,  or  poverty,  or  the  death 
of  your  best  friend  without  whom  life  is  death  for 
you — anything  that  it  pierces  your  heart  to  think  of) 
— from  the  moment  you  saw  it  your  whole  life  was 
altered.  You  will  never  again  be  what  you  have 
been.     .     .     . 

What  are  you  going  to  be  ?  There  are  three  lives 
before  you.  You  may  turn  away  your  eyes  from 
the  coming  suffering,  and  never  let  them  rest  there, 
and  make  believe  that  you  forget  it ;  but  there  it  will 
be  all  the  time,  and  you  will  always  know  that  it  is. 
That  is  the  worst  and  most  harassing  life  that  one 
can  lead.  You  may  stare  it  right  in  the  eyes  and 
defy  it.  You  may  begin  to  talk  of  cruel  destiny ; 
substituting  a  superficial  fatalism  for  the  superficial 
optimism  that  has  answered  your  purposes  thus  far. 
You  may  try  to  make  yourself  hard,  and  you  may 


FOURTH   SUNDAY   IN   LENT.  I4I 

succeed ;  and  if  you  do,  your  success  will  be  the 
most  terrible  ruin  that  could  befall  you. 

There  is  another  way.  You  may  look  at  it,  and 
look  througJi  it,  and  find  God  behind  it.  What  do 
we  mean  by  all  the  little  lines  we  draw  across  the 
Omnipotence  of  Love,  and  say,  "  God  cannot  bless 
me  here."  There  is  a  patient  familiarity  with  the 
coming  suffering  that  makes  a  soul,  when  it  comes, 
leap  into  its  arms  and  welcome  it.  Such  change  of 
aspect  comes  to  us  not  only  in  the  experience  but 
in  the  anticipation  of  sorrow.  '*  No  chastisement 
for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but  grievous, 
but  afterwards  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruits  of 
righteousness  to  them  that  are  exercised  thereby." 
All  those  stages  of  discipline  may  come  while  you 
expect  suffering  as  well  as  while  you  suffer,  if  you 
are  docile  enough ;  and  then  when  the  suffering  is 
reached,  there  is  nothing  there  to  terrify  you, 
nothing  but  the  "peaceable  fruits." 

There  is  one  anticipation  that  all  must  have — the 
looking  forward  to  death.  St.  Paul  tells  about  men 
who  through  fear  of  death  are  all  their  life  "  subject 
to  bondage";  dare  we  call  it  a  foolish  timidity? 
Without  it  where  would  come  out  that  large  power 
of  solemnity  and  sweetness  which  is  in  every  man's 
nature,  but  which  with  nine  men  out  of  ten   you 


142  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

cannot  touch  except  by  some  reminder  of  their 
coming  death  ?  .  .  .  The  truest  Christian  may 
still  shrink  from  the  last  agony  and  the  dark  grave. 
It  ought  not  to  make  him  doubt  his  Christianity  if 
he  does.  His  understanding  of  death  is  reserved 
for  him  until  he  can  look  at  it  from  the  inner  side. 
But  do  not  feel  that  you  ought  to  dread  it.  Just 
for  that  terror  it  is  shown  to  you  long  before,  that 
you  may  lose  sight  of  how  terrible  the  servant  of 
your  Father  is,  and  even  think  him  beautiful  from 
long  associating  him  with  the  beautiful  service  to 
which  he  is  appointed. 

I  beg  you  to  live  far-looking  lives.  Lift  up  your 
eyes  and  see  the  places  afar  off.  You  may  not  see 
all  the  way  between,  but  keep  your  eyes  forward 
still.  The  present  cannot  be  known  or  done  except 
by  the  future's  interpretation  and  inspiration.  And 
no  man  can  know  the  future  rightly  except  as  he 
knows  it  in  Him  who  is  the  Lord  of  all  our  lives, 
"  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
forever. 

When  Abraham  came  to  the  place  afar  off  which 
he  had  dreaded, — the  place  of  sacrifice, — the  sacri- 
fice was  not  needed ;  there  was  the  ram  in  the 
thicket,  and  the  boy  was  free.  It  all  recalls  another 
sacrifice; — Christ  dreaded  His  crucifixion;  He  saw 


FOURTH  SUNDAY  IN  LENT.        I43 

it  as  He  came  to  it.  He  did  not  escape,  "  When 
they  came  to  the  hill  Calvary,  there  they  crucified 
Him."  But  if  there  was  no  escape,  there  was  vic- 
tory;  "  He  was  crucified,  dead,  and  buried,"  but 
"  the  third  day  He  rose."  In  all  the  places  that 
are  before  us,  we  shall  either  be  delivered  by  Christ 
or  be  conquerors  in  Christ ;  either  He  will  take  the 
temptation  or  the  suffering  out  of  the  way  of  His 
servant,  as  He  did  for  Abraham ;  or  He  will  make 
us  victors  over  temptation  and  suffering,  as  He  was 
Himself.  What  does  it  matter  which  ?  Nay,  is 
not  the  last  the  best  way  ?  Since  our  victory  is 
made  sure  by  His  victory,  why  should  we  not  "  re- 
joice when  we  are  partakers  of  Christ's  sufferings, 
that  when  His  glory  is  revealed,  we  may  be  glad 
with  exceeding  joy  ?  " 

Our  whole  anticipation, 

Our  Master's  best  reward, 
Our  crown  of  bliss,  is  summed  in  this — 

*'  For  ever  with  the  Lord  !  " 

Almighty  God,  unto  whose  everlasting  blessedness  we  ascend,  not 
by  the  frailty  of  the  flesh,  but  by  the  activity  of  the  soul  ;  make  me 
ever  by  Thy  inspiration  to  anticipate  the  things  which  Thou  dost 
promise,  that  I  may  be  able  to  perform  those  which  Thou  com- 
mandest :  Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


flDon5ai?  after  the  fourtb  Sunba?. 

An  angel  went  down  at  a  certain  season  into  the  pool,  and 
troubled  the  water.  Whosoever  then  first  after  the  troubling  of 
the  water  stepped  in  was  made  whole  of  whatsoever  disease  he 
had.— John,  v.,  4. 

It  is  in  general  a  heavenly  element  in  certain 
lives  that  gives  those  lives  the  power  of  expansive 
blessing.  This  was  made  supremely  manifest  in  the 
Incarnation  of  Jesus.  There  was  the  human  life 
with  all  its  vast  capacity  lying  so  dead  and  helpless 
till  there  came  into  it  that  which  was  from  outside 
it  and  yet  which  was  of  it — the  divine,  the  heavenly 
element  which  was  above  the  human,  and  yet  with 
which  the  human  had  eternal  belongings,  to  which 
the  human  was  made  to  respond.  .  .  .  And 
this  is  always  the  renewal  of  the  Incarnation  in  the 
personal  life;  whenever  anew  the  Word  comes  to 
dwell  with  any  man ;  whenever  Christ,  the  Hope 
and  Promise  and  Power  of  spiritual  glory,  comes  to 
dwell  in  any  man,  then  for  that  man  the  miracle  is 

144 


MONDAY   AFTER  THE   FOURTH   SUNDAY.       I45 

wrought  which  was  wrought  for  the  world  in  Bethle- 
hem. The  troubled  waters  of  his  life  are  clothed 
with  power.  His  experiences  become  significant, 
and  reach  forth,  not  by  distinct  determination,  but 
by  the  new,  expansive  Christhood  in  them,  to  bear 
their  witness  and  bring  their  help  to  other  men. 

What  a  vast  difference  there  is  between  the  influ- 
ences that  two  men  of  marked  success  exercise  in  a 
community  !  One  man's  success  in  business  runs 
down  like  a  blight  and  a  discouragement  through 
every  store  in  the  trade.  Another  man's  succeeding 
is  like  a  trumpet  call  all  along  the  line.  There  are 
masters  in  every  profession  who  make  their  profes- 
sion seem  larger,  there  are  others  who  make  their 
profession  seem  smaller,  because  of  their  succeeding 
in  it.  Sometimes,  in  your  great  woe,  you  step  into 
your  neighbor's  house,  all  rich  and  warm  and  happy 
and  abloom  with  children,  and  it  makes  your  deso- 
lation and  bereavement  easier  to  bear;  then  you 
step  across  another  neighbor's  threshold,  and  his 
thronged  and  lighted  comfort  smites  you  like  a  blast 
out  of  a  frozen  sea.  .  .  .  All  of  us  have  had 
times  of  grief  when  we  have  been  filled  with  the 
desire  to  offer  other  men  the  rich  cup  which  we 
knew  the  Lord  was  holding  to  our  lips, — times  when 
our  pain  made  prophets  of  us,  and  sent  us  abroad  to 


146  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Speak  the  word  of  the  Lord  which  we  felt  spoken 
sweet  to  us  in  every  consecrated  pang.  A  heavenly 
element  had  come  here  and  there  into  the  sorrow 
which  our  life  has  known,  an  element  composed  of 
the  clear  and  satisfied  knowledge  that  the  sorrow 
came  from  God,  and  the  development  by  the  sorrow 
of  what  was  best  and  most  God-Uke  in  us;  and 
wherever  that  element  was  in  our  pain,  whoever 
has  touched  our  pain  has  found  the  puzzle  of  his  life 
grow  clearer,  and  the  bitterness  of  his  life  grow 
sweet. 

The  truth,  I  hope,  is  clear.  It  is  not  every  sorrow 
that  helps  the  sorrowing;  not  every  success  inspires 
courage;  not  every  joy  makes  the  joyless  lift  up 
their  heads;  all  these  experiences  are  of  the  earth 
and  earthy,  mere  pools  of  water,  until  the  angel's 
touch  falls  on  them,  until  the  heavenly  element 
comes  into  them.  Then,  as  it  is  told  in  our  parable, 
the  waters  of  the  pool  are  troubled ;  up  from  the 
depths  of  the  suffering  or  rejoicing  man  comes  that 
in  which  he  is  the  son  of  God — his  faith,  his  hope, 
his  tenderness,  his  insight.  That  mingles  with  the 
divine  purpose  for  which  the  experience  has  come 
to  him,  and  in  these  two  lies  the  power  of  blessing 
for  men's  souls. 

One  word  more.     Whosoever  stepped  in  after  the 


MONDAY   AFTER   THE   FOURTH    SUNDAY.       147 

troubling  of  the  waters  was  cured  "  of  wJiatsoevcr 
disease  he  had/'  It  was  not  one  kind  of  trouble 
only  that  the  inspired  water  touched.  Whatever 
woe  man's  poor  body  could  feel  this  blessed  pool 
could  cure.  And  so,  to  read  it  into  the  spiritual 
parable  for  which  we  have  made  it  stand,  any  ex- 
perience of  ours,  once  made  helpful  by  the  heavenly 
element,  has  a  strange  universalness.  It  can  help 
men  who  are  pressing  through  experiences  totally 
unlike  itself.  Souls  in  full  tide  of  joy  have  subtle 
gospels  for  the  poor  discouraged,  broken  men  who 
lie  beside  the  road  through  which  they  pass.  Un- 
questioning believers  have  cheer  to  drop  into  the 
cup  of  souls  all  harassed  and  distressed  by  doubt. 
Who  has  not  been  surprised  by  finding  that  men 
who  seemed  as  far  off  from  him  as  an  Alpine  summit 
had  sent  down  streams  of  help  into  his  life !  This  is 
the  way  in  which  the  single,  special  life  of  Jesus  has 
helped  all  the  world.  All  woe  is  one  at  its  heart, 
and  all  divine  help  is  one,  and  so  any  helpfulness 
in  man  which  really  comes  from  God  can  be  some- 
thing to,  can  do  something  for,  any  possible  suffer- 
ing which  comes  across  its  path. 

There  is  no  use  of  living  if  our  lives  do  not  help 
other  lives.  They  must  help  other  lives  if  in  them- 
selves is  the  power  of  God.     The  power  of  God 


148  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

comes  into  men's  lives  by  Christ.  To  make  His 
ours  by  obedient  love — that  is  the  only  true  way  to 
ensure  that  our  lives  shall  not  be  useless  in  the 
world. 

I  ask  thee  for  a  thoughtful  love, 
Through  constant  watching  wise, 

To  meet  the  glad  with  joyful  smiles, 
And  wipe  the  weeping  eyes, 

And  a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself 
To  soothe  and  sympathize. 

Wherever  in  the  world  I  am, 

In  whatsoe'er  estate, 
I  have  a  fellowship  with  hearts 

To  keep  and  cultivate, 
And  a  work  of  lowly  love  to  do 

For  the  Lord  on  whom  I  wait. 

O  God,  the  Strengthener  of  the  soul,  I  beseech  Thee  in  my  weak- 
ness to  make  perfect  Thy  strength,  that  by  Thy  gracious  help  I 
may  be  able  to  help  others,  according  to  the  full  measure  of  the 
opportunity  that  Thou  givest  me.  Grant  it  for  the  sake  of  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


XCue^ba?  after  tbe  fomth  Sunba?* 

If  the  prophet  had  bid  thee  do  some  great  thing,  wouldest  thou 
not  have  done  it? — 2  Kings,  v.,  13. 

Every  man  who  has  watched  the  workings  of  his 
own  Hfe  will  tell  us  that  the  little  things  he  has 
encountered,  and  not  the  larger  things,  are  those 
which  have  tried  him  most,  and  before  which  he 
has  most  often  failed.  It  is  the  universal  experi- 
ence. The  great  trials  and  duties  and  temptations 
bring  their  strength  with  them ;  we  brace  ourselves 
against  them  by  a  natural  instinct  of  opposition,  and 
are  strong;  but  the  small  trials  and  temptations  find 
us  weak,  and  bring  to  us  no  strength.  Something 
comes  to  try  your  temper,  if  that  is  your  weak 
point ;  it  is  a  mighty  thing ;  you  can  see  it  in  the 
distance  as  it  comes  down  on  you  brandishing  its 
arms  like  a  giant,  and  thinking  to  make  very  easy 
work  of  the  citadel  of  your  patience, — never  very 
strongly  guarded, — and  what  is  the  result  ?  The 
gates  close  themselves  against  the  coming  enemy  ; 

149 


I50  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

you  keep  your  temper  perfectly,  and  are  as  calm  as 
a  saint.  And  the  next  day  some  wretched  little 
provocation  creeps  up  and  steals  the  keys,  and  you 
are  in  a  passion  before  you  dream  of  it ! 

Or,  think  how  it  is  with  charity  and  kindness.  A 
strong  demand  upon  your  pity  and  enterprising 
benevolence  calls  up  a  chivalrous  daring,  and  sinks 
yourself  out  of  sight,  and  there  is  nothing  that  you 
w^ould  not  do  for  a  friend  in  his  great  suffering;  and 
yet  the  little  needs  that  the  same  friend  brings  to 
you  in  ordinary  life  encounter  only  selfishness  and 
petulance.  I  think  there  are  many  men  who  would 
go  to  China  for  a  brother,  if  he  needed  it,  who  will 
hardly  go  down  the  street  for  him  without  grum- 
bling,— men  who  Avould  give  up  their  lives  and  never 
think  of  it,  but  find  it  very  hard  to  give  five  minutes 
for  a  friend. 

And  what  is  the  philosophy  of  martyrdom  ?  Why 
is  it  that  men,  and  even  women  and  children,  will 
walk  fearlessly  up  to  the  stake  or  the  scaffold  and 
die  with  psalms  on  their  lips,  who  had  no  more 
courage  than  their  neighbors  when  the  little  perils 
of  ordinary  life  had  to  be  met  ?  The  martyrs  are 
not  a  separate  race.  ...  In  quiet  times  of 
quiet  duties  the  level  of  goodness  seems  to  have 
sunk,  and  we  think  there  can  be  no  more  martyrs; 


TUESDAY   AFTER   THE   FOURTH   SUNDAY.      151 

but  by-and-by  the  terrible  time  of  terrible  duties 
comes,  and  men  rise  to  it  in  a  moment,  and  the 
martyr-spirit  is  as  plentiful  and  as  glorious  as  ever 
it  was  of  old.  .  .  .  It  is  some  secret  in  this 
wondrous  human  soul  by  which  it  changes  at  the 
touch  of  a  new  emergency  into  something  new  itself. 
This  makes  infinite  progress  conceivable ;  this  makes 
heaven  possible.  I  cannot  but  think  that  in  heaven 
there  will  be  tasks  unspeakably  harder  than  any  of 
the  little  trifles  we  do  here,  and  yet  we  shall  not 
groan  over  them  any  longer,  but  do  them  with 
angelic  ease ;  for  the  heavenly  task  will  make  heav- 
enly men  with  heavenly  strength. 

But  hoiv  do  the  great  tasks  of  life  put  strength 
into  us  that  does  not  spring  to  meet  the  little  labors. 
I  think  that  a  large  part  of  the  answer  lies  in  the 
way  we  look  at  responsibility.  Responsibility,  or 
the  Avhole  thought  of  being  bound,  of  owing  it  to 
God  to  do  a  certain  act,  is  easily  adapted  to  what  we 
call  great  duties,  but  does  not  so  readily  take  hold 
of  the  little  duties  of  life ;  and  so  the  great  strength 
which  belongs  with  "  I  ought  "  enters  into  the 
great  tasks,  and  they  are  easy ;  and  it  does  not  get 
into  the  little  tasks,  and  they  are  hard.  It  is  not 
hard  to  conceive  that  I  owe  it  to  the  Law  of  God  to 
lay  down  my  life,  if  it  seems  needed  for  the  good  of 


152  THE    MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

some  great  cause,  and  I  may  do  it,  filled  with  enthu- 
siasm when  that  Law  of  God  presents  itself  to  me  in 
some  of  its  glowing  conceptions ;  but  it  is  hard  to 
believe  that  the  Law  of  God  cares  whether  I  am 
punctual  at  my  daily  humdrum  task,  whether  I 
speak  kindly  or  crossly  to  the  child  that  I  find  fallen 
in  the  streets,  whether  I  wrong  the  tender  conscience 
of  a  poor,  stumbling  brother  who  is  looking  for  the 
truth,  whether  I  tell  this  little  lie  or  not.  Our  whole 
notion  of  the  Law  of  God  is  apt  to  be  too  cumber- 
some and  stiff.  It  fits  over  the  whole  world  like  a 
mighty  dome, — even  a  single  life  may  be  conceived 
of  as  so  large  that  the  Law  of  God  may  fit  that  as  a 
great  protecting  roof, — but  it  does  not  fold  itself 
easily  about  single  little  actions,  and  so  the  little 
actions,  freed  from  the  constraint  and  felt  pressure 
of  responsibiHty,  are  loose  and  harder  to  grasp, — 
harder  to  do  rightly  than  the  larger  ones  on  which 
it  presses  with  a  recognized  authority. 

Do  you  remember  what  St.  Paul  said  ? — ''  What 
the  Law  could  not  do  in  that  it  was  weak  through 
the  flesh,  God,  sending  His  own  Son  in  the  likeness 
of  sinful  flesh  and  for  sin,  condemned  sin  in  the 
flesh."  We  have  just  seen  something  of  what  it  was 
that  the  Law  could  not  do ;  it  could  not  touch  the 
little  duties  and  condemn  the  little  sins  of  life.     It 


TUESDAY   AFTER  THE   FOURTH   SUNDAY.      1 53 

could  set  itself  against  the  course  of  terrible,  head- 
long crime,  but  the  Httle  faults  slipped  through. 
The  Law  was  "  weak  through  the  flesh,"  because  it 
could  not  fit  itself  to  the  intricacies  and  subtleties  of 
this  fleshly  life  which  we  live.  And  what  then? 
God  sent  His  own  Son  in  the  likeness  of  sinful  flesh, 
— the  personal,  human  Saviour,  who  could  come 
right  into  the  midst  of  what  men  were  being  and 
doing  with  a  sympathy  and  knowledge  of  them 
which,  while  it  is  comforting  and  soothing,  is  con- 
vincing, unsparing,  and  condemning  too.  Instead  of 
a  vague  responsibility  there  came  a  watchful  Love, 
.  .  .  the  presence  of  the  Father  in  the  Jiouse, 
among  the  children,  not  merely  writing  upon  the 
walls  that  to  do  such  and  such  a  thing  was  wrong, 
but  showing  them  that  it  was  wrong  by  His  holi- 
ness, and  persuading  them  not  to  do  it  by  His  love 
— condcuining  sin  in  the  flesh. 

Here,  then,  is  Salvation.  Here  is  something  that 
goes  beyond  and  completes  the  work  that  the  Law 
could  not  do, — "  Christ  is  the  end  of  the  Law." 
It  is  the  power  of  personal,  discriminating  Love. 
Make  this,  make  Him  your  religion,  and  then  you 
have  got  something  that  is  infinitely  flexible,  and 
can  fit  itself  to  little  and  large  alike.  .  .  .  When 
we  do  right  no  longer  because  we  must,  but  because 


154  THE    MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

He  wants  us  to,  and  it  will  disobey  and  wound  Him 
if  we  do  wrong,  then  every  part  of  the  long  line  of 
duty  is  pressed  by  the  same  force.  The  smaller 
duties  are  as  much  to  be  done  as  the  larger,  since  all 
are  to  be  done  not  simply  with  reference  to  their 
own  fruits,  which  are  insignificant  enough  even  in 
the  greatest,  but  as  symbols  of  gratitude  to  Him 
who  has  loved  us.  Every  little  chance  to  do  His 
will  becomes  now  an  emergency,  and  so  gets  all  the 
strength  of  responsibility  that  used  to  belong  only 
to  what  seemed  the  great  critical  acts  of  life  ;  and  so 
the  little,  with  this  new  support,  is  as  easy  to  do  as 
the  large. 

This  is  the  salvation  by  the  Personal  Christ.  This 
is  the  pure  river  of  the  water  of  Life,  clear  as 
crystal,  proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  of 
the  Lamb,  by  the  side  of  which  grows  the  tree  of 
life,  with  its  constant  fruit ! 

It  may  seem  a  little  thing 

That  you  have  to  do, — 
A  cup  of  water  to  bring. 

Or  loosen  a  shoe, — 
But  if  done  with  a  ready  will 
And  a  loving  spirit,  still 

It  is  not  little  in  you  ■ 

O  God,  the  Strengthener  of  the  soul,  in  my  weakness  perfect  Thy 
strength. 


TUESDAY   AFTER   THE   FOURTH    SUNDAY.      1 55 

Thou  appointest  my  work,  strengthen  me  to  luring  it  to  a  good 
end. 

Chasten  my  thoughts  by  attention  to  present  duty,  however  lowly 
or  commonplace. 

Let  me  be  more  anxious  to  be  faithful  in  little  than  to  have  much 
committed  to  me. 

Grant  me  grace  to  do  all  things  to  Thy  glory,  and  thereby  to  my 
endless  peace. 

I  ask  it  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour,  in  whose  name 
we  cannot  ask  too  much.     Amen. 


Mel)nesba?  after  tbe  Jfourtb  Sunba?. 

Afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness,— Heb., 
xii.,  3. 

This  shall  comfort  us  concerning  our  works. — -Gen.,  v.,  29. 

Whatever  may  be  the  special  aspect  that  life 
presents  to  us,  there  always  is  behind  it  a  larger 
purpose  of  life  of  which  these  special  aspects  are 
only  exhibitions.  That  larger  purpose  is  the  Re- 
ception of  God  by  the  soul  of  Man.  To  receive 
God  so  that  our  life  shall  be  filled  with  His  life — 
that  is  what  we  are  living  for.  And  all  that  happens 
to  us — either  the  special  events  which  we  encounter, 
or  the  larger,  general  way  in  which  all  life  presents 
itself  to  us — is  but  the  method  by  which  His  life  is 
to  be  poured  into  ours. 

It  seems  to  me  that  in  the  deep  sense  of  this  truth 
lie  both  the  dignity  and  the  consolation  of  our  lives, 
— the  dignity  of  their  successes  and  the  consolation 
of  their  failures.  It  is  not  easy  to  say  which  is 
needed  most.    When  men  succeed  in  what  the  world 

156 


WEDNESDAY   AFTER  THE   FOURTH   SUNDAY.    1 5/ 

and  their  ambitions  urge  them  to  attempt,  I  think 
there  almost  ahvays  comes  a  certain  sense  of  tawdri- 
ness  and  worthlessness  in  the  result ;  and  this  sense 
is  often  keenest  in  the  noblest  men,  keen  and  deep 
just  in  proportion  to  men's  native  nobleness  and  also 
in  proportion  to  the  nobleness  of  the  work  in  which 
they  have  succeeded.  The  wise  man  finds  it  when 
he  has  won  his  learning,  the  conscientious  man  when 
he  has  done  his  duty,  the  patient  man  when  he  has 
borne  his  pain.  In  weak,  exhausted  moments  after 
the  victory  comes  the  question  whether  it  is  all 
worth  while.  It  seems  as  if  the  mere  feat  of  learn- 
ing or  doing  or  suffering  were  like  an  athlete's 
triumph,  fruitless  of  real  result,  and  good  for 
nothing  but  a  show.  Many  and  many  a  busy  or 
patient  man's  and  woman's  life  is  haunted  by  this 
sense  of  tawdriness,  this  lack  of  worth  and  dignity. 
Where  can  the  rescue  come  from  ?  If  I  can  learn  to 
know  that  through  my  learning,  or  my  work,  or  my 
patience,  God  is  really  giving  Himself  to  me  and 
making  me  like  Himself, — if  then  my  learning  or  my 
work  or  my  patience  becomes,  not  something  final 
but  the  doorway  through  which  God  comes  to  me, 
is  it  not  rescued,  rescued  as  the  doorway  is  rescued 
into  dignity  by  the  guest  who  enters  through  it,  and 
makes  it  forever  after  radiant  with  his  remembered 


158  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

presence?  As  the  farmer's  labor  has  a  dignity  which 
the  athlete's  contortions  never  win,  so  the  work  that 
you  or  I  do  for  the  winning  of  God  has  its  own 
majesty  that  work  for  work's  sake  can  never  attain. 

And  here  comes  the  consolation  of  the  lives  that 
fail,  of  the  parts  of  our  lives  which  are  certainly, 
indisputably  failures.  If  there  is  a  special  form  and 
an  unseen  purpose  to  every  life,  then  there  is  always 
the  hope  that  though  the  form  of  life  may  be  broken 
the  purpose  of  the  life  may  yet  fulfil  itself  in  some 
other  way,  even  in  spite  of — nay,  through  the  break- 
age of — the  form. 

Suppose  I  am  one  of  those  men  whose  ideal  of 
life  is  a  perfectly  done  task,  everything  fulfilled  to 
the  uttermost,  the  ends  all  folded  in  the  finished 
work,  to  which  no  judge  in  all  the  universe  can  find 
a  word  to  say  except  "  Well  done."  Suppose,  with 
this  ideal  of  life,  my  real  life  is  a  failure.  Nothing 
is  done.  Unfinished  work,  material  all  spoiled  by 
handling  and  wrought  into  no  useful  shape,  is  lying 
all  around — and  that  is  all !  Is  there  any  consola- 
tion for  such  a  failure  as  that?  Surely  none.  If 
the  work,  the  finished  work,  neat,  trim,  perfect  work, 
were  the  end  of  it  all,  then  surely  there  is  no  con- 
solation. The  material  is  wasted  ;  there  can  be  no 
repair  ;  there  is  no  second  chance. 


WEDNESDAY  AFTER  THE  FOURTH  SUNDAY.  1 59 

But  if  behind  the  work  there  Hes  a  purpose  ;  and 
if  God  may  present  Himself  to  me  over  the  ruins  of 
my  fallen  work  as  He  never  could  have  entered  in 
by  its  stately  and  well-built  gates,  and  so  the  pur- 
pose of  my  life  may  be  attained  in  all  the  failure  of 
its  form  ; — then,  surely,  there  is  consolation — the 
consolation  upon  which  the  bravest  and  the  most 
successful  of  us,  O  my  friends  !  have  to  fall  back  a 
thousand  times — the  promise  of  repair  which,  though 
it  never  can  make  the  breakage  of  a  life  seem  trivial, 
may  prevent  it  from  seeming  fatal ;  and  may  make, 
thank  God  !  a  new  courage  where  the  old  has  died, 
a  courage  full  of  faith  when  the  courage  of  self- 
reliance  has  become  impossible  forever  ! 

Courage  !  for  life  is  hasting 

To  endless  life  away  : 
The  inner  life  unwasting 

Transfigures  thy  dull  clay. 

Lost,  lost,  are  all  our  losses  ; 

Love  sets  forever  free  : 
The  full  life  heaves  and  tosses 

Like  an  eternal  sea  ; 

One  endless,  living  story. 

One  poem  spread  abroad  ! 
And  the  sum  of  all  our  glory 

Is  the  countenance  of  God  ! 


l6o  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

O  God,  Who  hast  loved  me  with  unspeakable  love,  give  me  grace 
to  value  all  things,  joys  and  sorrows,  successes  and  failures,  only  as 
means  of  bringing  me  nearer  Thee.  Through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.     Amen. 


ZTbure&a?  after  tbe  ifourtb  Sunba^. 

And  as  He  went  out  of  the  temple,  one  of  His  disciples  saith  unto 
Him  :  Master,  see  what  manner  of  stones  and  what  building  is  here. 
—Mark,  xiii.,  i. 

A  SUPERB  utterance  of  the  skill  and  strength  by 
which  man  can  control  the  physical  world,  there  they 
are  still  to-day,  those  giant  stones !  They  were  crying 
out  to  the  disciples  of  man's  power  over  matter, 
and  the  disciples  were  full  of  wonder  at  it,  but  Jesus 
did  not  care  for  it.  .  .  .  He  prophesied  how 
transitory  it  was  all  to  prove,  and  so  passed  on. 

We  need  to  know  that  that  is  always  true;  we 
who  call  ourselves  the  servants  of  Jesus  Christ  have 
no  right  ever  to  forget  that  He  never  is  impressed 
by  merely  material  success  or  power  any  more  than 
He  was  when  He  saw  them  in  Jerusalem. 
We  see,  indeed,  that  all  the  spring  of  marvellous 
energy,  all  the  vitalizing  power  which  made  our 
civilization  has  come  in  connection  with  the  Gospel, 
and  so  we  are  apt  to  think  that  what  the  Gospel  set 
itself  to  do  was  to  give  man  this  power  over  the 


l62  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

material  world ;  but  when  we  undertake  to  search 
for  it,  we  find  that  not  one  word  ever  fell  from 
Jesus'  lips  which  told  that  this  was  what  He  sought. 
If  material  civilization, — that  is,  the  accumulation 
of  wealth,  the  multiplication  of  physical  comforts, 
the  conquering  of  force  to  man's  will  so  that  it 
leaps  the  ocean  almost  with  a  bound  and  speaks  his 
messages  around  the  globe, — if  it  could  literally  stop 
there  and  go  no  farther,  leave  no  impress  upon  char- 
acter, it  would  make  no  impression  upon  Christ. 
He  would  care  nothing  for  it. 

Does  it  not  follow  that,  if  we  are  Christians,  ser- 
vants of  Christ,  we  too  are  to  care  nothing  for  mate- 
rial success  in  and  for  itself  ?  We  let  it  ruin  us  and 
oppress  us.  In  our  own  lives  it  keeps  us  struggling 
and  working  all  our  days,  from  our  earliest  to  our 
latest  years,  heaping  up  money  or  providing  com- 
forts for  ourselves;  in  our  brethren's  lives  around 
us,  we  yield  to  its  demands,  and  render  our  homage 
to  the  man  who  overpowers  us  with  the  bulky  impo- 
sition of  his  wealth.  If  we  are  really,  thoroughly 
Christians,  we  could  not  be  such  slaves.  We  must 
rise  in  protest,  and  insist  that  these  are  not  the 
things  for  a  spiritual  being  either  to  strive  for  or 
admire.  O  my  dear  friends,  we  are  not  wholly 
Christ's  until  some  such  freedom  comes  to  us.    .    .    . 


THURSDAY  AFTER  THE   i-OLRTil    SUNDAY.     1 63 

But  wc  have  stated  only  a  small  part  of  the  truth 
when  we  have  said  that  Christ  did  not  care,  docs 
not  care  ever,  for  merely  material  triumphs ; — Christ 
does  care  for  the  material,  but  always  with  an  out- 
look beyond  it  into  the  spiritual.  .  .  .  Did 
Jesus  care  for  bustling  energy  and  enterprise  ?  He 
did.  Life!  life!  was  what  He  was  forever  calling 
out  for.  But  a  man  full  of  energy,  who  fought  with 
everything  but  his  passions,  and  desired  all  good 
things  but  character — that  sort  of  man  was  all  the 
sadder  to  the  Saviour  for  the  energy  that  he  pos- 
sessed. Man  without  spirituality  was  for  Him  man 
without  that  manhood  by  which  the  body  and  the 
mind  and  the  impetuous  will  are  made  truly  human. 
The  time  must  come  w4ien  Christian  men 
shall  refuse  to  honor  capitalists  for  mere  wealth,  or 
their  age  for  its  accumulation  of  physical  comforts. 
When  that  time  comes,  when  every  material  triumph 
is  compelled  to  show  some  spiritual  gain,  some  con- 
tribution to  human  character,  then  how  much  more 
life  will  mean ! 

He  who  looks  beyond  the  material  to  the  spiritual 
which  is  so  much  more  important — he  is  the  man 
whom  mere  material  success  and  magnificence  can- 
not impose  upon.  Men  come  to  him  and  say, 
"  Behold,  what  manner  of  stones  and  what  building 


164  THE    MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

is  here !  "  "  See  how  rich  this  man  is !  "  *  *  See  how 
strong  this  institution  is!"  **  How  beautiful  this 
art  is!"  His  answer  rings  out  clear  and  strong: 
**  So  far  as  they  mean  spirituality  and  make  spiritual 
men,  I  do  indeed  value  them  all  and  thank  God  for 
them ;  yet  I  value  them  always  with  a  higher  value 
for  the  things  beyond.  I  will  let  any  of  them  go, 
at  any  moment,  if  so  I  can  reach  to  higher  spiritual- 
ity myself,  or  make  other  men  better  men." 

How  free  that  man  is!  How  he  can  walk  the 
proudest  streets  and  not  cringe  to  the  arrogant 
wealth  which  crowds  them!  How  calm  the  judg- 
ment with  which,  looking  at  them  through  Christ, 
he  dares  to  form  his  own  independent  judgment  of 
men  and  things! 

How  can  we  reach  that  freedom  ?  It  is  only  by 
entering  into  the  higher  anxieties  of  Jesus  that  one 
can  be  freed  from  the  lower  anxieties  of  men.  You 
must  care  with  all  your  soul  that  God  should  be 
glorified  and  that  men  should  be  saved.  If  you 
can  do  that  you  are  free.  And  you  can  do  that 
only  by  letting  God  first  glorify  Himself  in  you  by 
saving  you.  Let  Christ  be  your  Saviour.  Then, 
tasting  His  salvation,  your  one  great  wish  will  be 
that  all  men  may  be  saved ;  and,  wishing  that 
intensely,    you  will  be  free  from  every  wish  that 


THURSDAY   AFTER  THE   FOURTH    SUNDAY.     165 

does  not  luirmonize  with  it.  That  is  St.  Paul's  great 
idea  when  he  spoke  of  "  Casting  down  imaginations 
and  every  high  thing  that  exalteth  itself  against  the 
"knowledge  of  God,  and  bringing  into  captivity  every 
thouGfht  to  the  obedience  of  Christ." 


•fc>' 


Nothing  so  regal  as  kindness, 

Nothing  so  mighty  as  love  ; — 
This  be  the  truth  that  our  blindness 

Scatters  with  light  from  above, 
Clearing  our  vision  and  setting  us  free 
From  the  prince  of  this  world,  to  be  joined  to  Thee 
In  a  life  of  rejoicing  liberty. 

Blessed  Jesus,  give  me  the  seeing  eye,  to  look  through  things 
material  to  things  spiritual  ;  and  the  fearless  and  obedient  will,  to 
follow  Thee  all  the  days  of  my  life.      For  Thy  mercy's  sake.    Amen. 


]friba^  after  tbe  Jfourtb  Sun&a^* 

The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit ;  a  broken  and  a  contrite 
heart,  O  God,  Thou  wilt  not  despise. — Ps.,  li,,  17. 

Many  things  seem  to  require  no  law  except  a  law 
of  growth.  A  seed  begins  to  swell  with  the  latent 
life,  and  thenceforth,  till  the  oak  is  waving  its  vet- 
eran glory  against  the  sky,  there  is  nothing  but 
continuous  development,  a  straight,  unbroken  line 
of  progress.  An  egg  slowly  warms  to  life,  and  an 
uninterrupted  unfolding  of  life  goes  on,  vitality  little 
by  little  set  free  for  action  till  the  robin  sings  his 
perfect  song  under  your  window  or  the  perfect  eagle 
sweeps  his  wings  across  the  sun.  .  .  .  And  we 
should  have  supposed  that  for  the  human  soul  there 
would  be  nothing  to  do  but,  just  like  the  seed  or 
the  egg,  to  unfold  its  latent  power,  and,  by  the 
same  law  of  development,  to  arrive  at  the  most  per- 
fect spiritual  condition  just  as  certainly  as  the  seed 
comes  to  be  an  oak  and  the  egg  comes  to  be  a  robin. 
But  when  we  look  into  it  a  little  we  see  that  the 

tC6 


FRIDAY  AFTER  THE   FOURTH   SUNDAY.        167 

seed  does  not  become  a  perfect  tree  unless  it  is  a 
perfect  seed,  the  egg  does  not  become  a  perfect  bird 
unless  it  is  a  perfect  egg.  If  either  germ  is  imper- 
fect, the  fruit  will  be  imperfect ;  and  the  law  of 
development,  the  more  completely  it  works,  will 
only  multiply  imperfection  until  some  hand  takes 
hold  and  changes  the  wrong  direction  to  a  right  one, 
and  so  makes  development  a  gracious  and  a  hopeful 
thing.  The  law  of  straight  things  is  just  to  let  them 
grow ;  they  will  grow  straight.  The  law  of  crooked 
things  must  be  to  break  and  readjust  them;  other- 
wise the  more  growth,  the  more  crookedness  for 
ever.  Growth  for  the  straight  things,  breakage  and 
readjustment  for  the  crooked  things, — those  are  the 
two  treatments. 

The  human  heart  is  crooked ;  it  has  got  bent  out 
of  its  straight,  true  line.  Henceforth  the  old  prin- 
ciple of  growth  is  not  enough.  Wrong  things  will 
grow  wrong ;  the  harder  they  grow  the  more  wrong 
they  will  grow.  Given  the  fact  of  sin,  the  most 
gracious  law  becomes  this  new  law — the  law  of 
breakage  and  readjustment,  the  law  of  broken 
hearts.  .  .  .  The  Gospel  is  not  merely  a  Gospel 
of  supply;  it  is  a  Gospel  of  conversion. 

A  broken  spirit!  a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart! 
We  take  it  for  granted  that  the  means  of  breakage 


1 68  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

must  always  be  some  one  or  other  of  God's  ministers 
of  sorrow.  The  words  fall  of  themselves  into  the 
plaintive  undertone  with  which  we  speak  of  grief 
and  all  its  holy  offices.  But  have  we  ever  asked 
ourselves  why  it  should  be  so  ?  God  never  breaks  a 
human  life  or  spirit  just  for  the  sake  of  breaking  it; 
He  always  has  an  object.  Sometimes,  perhaps 
oftenest,  His  object — the  stoppage  of  a  life  that  it 
may  begin  anew,  and  begin  better — can  be  accom- 
plished only  through  the  agency  of  suffering.  The 
blow  has  to  fall;  the  fortune  that  a  man  leaned 
against  so  that  he  leaned  away  from  God  has  to 
break  down,  the  child  that  the  mother  clung  to  so 
that  she  would  not  see  her  Saviour  has  to  be  carried 
in  its  coffin  outside  the  house  door,  before  the 
broken  heart  is  willing  to  strike  straight  for  God. 
But  are  hearts  never  broken  by  blessings  ?  Does 
the  sun,  with  its  still  and  steady  mercy,  work  no 
chemical  changes  more  gracious  and  more  perma- 
nent than  the  wild  winds  accomplish  ?  The  storm 
sweeps  in  some  night  across  your  garden,  and  in 
the  morning,  lo!  it  has  wrenched  and  reshaped 
the  great  tree,  and  snapped  a  hundred  little  flowers 
upon  their  stems ;  but  the  real  power  there  is  noth- 
ing to  the  majesty  with  which,  through  the  still 
summer  days,  the  sun  that  woke  no  sleeping  insect 


FRIDAY  AFTER  THE   FOURTH   SUNDAY.        169 

in  tlic  grass  was  drawing  into  shape  the  vast  arms 
of  forest  giants  and  carving  out  the  beauty  of  the 
roses'  leaves.  I  beHeve  that  much  of  the  best  piety 
of  the  world  is  ripened,  not  under  sorrow  but  under 
joy.  At  any  rate,  we  ought  not  to  talk  as  if  only 
sorrow  brought  conversion.  There  is  a  grace  for 
happy  people  too.  Blessed  is  the  soul  that  for  very 
happiness  is  broken  and  contrite,  turns  away  from 
its  sins,  and  goes  to  Jesus  with  the  spontaneous 
and  unselfish  love  of  gratitude!  Anything  that 
makes  a  man  stop  and  change,  and  be  something 
different  from  what  he  has  been,  is  a  compelling 
grace  of  God. 

The  sacrifices  of  God  are  a  broken  spirit  ;  a 
broken  and  a  contrite  heart,  O  God,  Thou  wilt  not 
despise."  It  is  not  a  demand  for  a  mere  senti- 
mental condition,  for  a  vague  and  wretched  disap- 
pointment with  life  and  its  misfortunes,  but  a 
demand  for  you  to  accept  the  great  law  that  in 
every  human  life  there  must  come  a  change  of  direc- 
tion before  it  can  be  set  towards  happiness.  If  it 
has  not  come  to  you,  it  must  come  before  you  can 
be  saved.  To  find  out  whether  it  has  come  or  not, 
and  if  not,  then  to  seek  it  with  your  whole  heart 
and  soul  until  you  get  it — that  is  the  one  thing  for 
you  to  do. 


I/O  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Blest  be  Thy  dew,  and  blest  Thy  frost, 

And  happy  I  to  be  so  crost, 

And  cured  by  crosses  at  Thy  cost. 

The  dew  doth  cheer  what  is  distrest, 
The  frosts  ill  weeds  nip  and  molest ; 
In  both  Thou  workest  to  the  best. 

Grant  me  a  broken  and  contrite  heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a  right 
spirit  within  me. 

By  joy  and  by  sorrow  break  and  straighten  my  will,  and  bring  it 
more  and  more  into  harmony  with  Thine. 

Enter  by  Thy  Holy  Spirit  into  my  heart,  and  cast  forth  whatever 
is  displeasing  to  Thee. 

While  I  live,  let  me  work  Thy  will  ;  when  I  die,  bring  me  by  Thy 
mercy  into  life  everlasting.     Amen. 


Saturba?  after  tbe  fourtb  Sun&a^- 

That  disciple  whom  Jesus  had  loved  said  unto  Peter,  It  is  the 
Lord.  Now  when  Simon  Peter  heard  that  it  was  the  Lord,  he  girt 
his  fisher's  coat  unto  him,  and  did  cast  himself  into  the  sea. — John, 
xxi.,  7. 

Here  are  the  types  of  two  kinds  of  natures;  here 
are  two  men,  each  showing  very  strongly  and  clearly 
one  of  the  characteristics  of  humanity.  John  is  the 
type  of  insight,  Peter  is  the  type  of  action.  .  .  . 
No  doubt  there  is  a  great  deal  that  forces  the  distinc- 
tion on  us  as  one  of  the  most  fundamental  of  all  the 
differences  that  lie  between  man  and  man ;  but  it 
does  seem  to  me  that  w^e  ought  to  remember  that 
there  is  no  essential  incompatibility  between  the 
deepest  knowledge  and  the  most  energetic  action. 
The  Bible  talks  almost  indiscriminately  about  know- 
ing and  serving  God  as  the  perfect  attainment  of  the 
Christian  soul,  because  knowledge  and  service  meet 
in  a  harmony  which  is  almost  identity  in  the  great 
personal  relationship  of  love. 

We  see  this  very  clearly  in  the  relation  which 
171 


172  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Christ's  disciples  held  to  Him.  They  loved  Him — 
that  is  the  round  and  total  statement  of  it.  But 
the  beautiful  thing  about  it,  I  think,  is  to  see 
how  in  that  love,  completely  personal,  met,  per- 
fectly harmonious,  these  two  great  impulses  after 
knowledfje  and  after  action  which  characterize  all 
human  life.  I  think  I  see  them  in  His  presence ; — 
their  faces  are  glowing  with  that  sublime  joy  which 
tells  of  new  knowledge,  of  deeper  insight  into  the 
mystery  of  existence,  of  visions  opening  beyond 
visions  into  the  depths  of  being  and  of  love.  Their 
hands  at  the  same  time  are  reaching  out  for  work — 
something  to  do,  some  way  to  utter  this  knowledge 
that  is  filling  them,  some  way  to  print  on  the  hard 
matter  of  this  earth  the  image  of  their  Lord. 
Drekmers  are  turning  into  workers  ;  workers  are 
turnmg  into  dreamers.  John  is  opening  a  Peter- 
nature  ;  Peter  is  opening  a  John-nature.  Each, 
while  he  keeps  his  own  first  character  preeminent,  is 
rounding  out  upon  his  meagre  side  into  some  devel- 
opment of  what  at  first  seemed  impossible  to  him. 
And,  by-and-by,  when  they  have  been  with  Him 
long,  they  have  all  gathered  into  their  faces  a  cer- 
tain union  of  insight  and  activity  which  it  is  hard  to 
find  in, any  other  group  of  men.  When  they  go 
forth  at   His  command,  it  is  hard  to  say  whether  it 


SATURDAY   AFTER   THE   FOURTH   SUNDAY.      173 

is  as  teachers  of  truth  or  as  workers  of  wonders  that 
they  take  gradual  possession  of  the  world. 

What  Jesus  did  for  His  disciples  in  this  regard  He 
is  always  trying  to  do  for  us.  I  think  that  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  treatments  which  Christ  gives  to 
our  souls  is  that  by  which  He  tries,  through  every 
kind  of  discipline,  to  fill  out  our  deficient  Christian 
life  with  its  lacking  element.  Often  this  is  the 
place  in  which  we  are  to  look  for  the  real  interpreta- 
tion of  the  way  in  which  our  Lord  is  treating  us. 
.  .  .  God  sends  to  you  His  various  dispensations, 
touches  your  life  with  all  the  manifold  touchings  of 
His  awful,  loving  hands.  Joy,  pain,  health,  sick- 
ness, doubt,  care,  disappointment,— all  of  these  and 
all  the  rest  come  to  you :  what  shall  you  think  they 
mean  ?  One  thing  must  certainly  be  this — that  God 
is  trying  to  complete  your  life,  to  fill  it  out  to  ful- 
ness on  its  deficient  side. 

We  are  to  be  more  complete  in  heaven  than  we 
are  here  on  earth.  Will  it  not  be  part  of  the  joy  of 
that  completeness  that  every  soul  shall  there  live  on 
•both  sides  of  its  life,  that  the  thinker  and  the  vision- 
seer  shall  there  taste  the  full  joy  of  letting  his 
deepest  knowledge  go  forth  into  glad  and  vigorous 
activity,  and  the  hard  worker  of  the  earth  shall  find 
his  work  transfigured  by  seeing  how  deep  were  the 


174  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

unconscious  motives  which  inspired  his  labor,  how- 
great  and  good  was  the  dear  Lord  for  whom  he 
worked  ?  As  we  wait  for  that  completeness,  if  we 
always  keep  it  in  our  sight  and  hope  for  it,  it  will 
not  be  hard  for  us  to  be  tolerant  or  appreciative  of 
one  another.  The  man  of  action  may  rejoice  that 
the  man  of  thought  is  deepening  life ;  the  man  of 
thought  may  thank  God  that  the  man  of  action  is 
widening  life.  John  and  Peter  may  go  hand  in 
hand  and  do  a  work  that  neither  by  himself  could 
do. 

And  what  shall  each  of  us  do  for  himself  ?  Shall 
not  these  Laws  of  Life  come  out  of  all  that  we 
have  said  ? 

(i)  Let  there  be  no  insight  without  its  work;  let 
me  count  no  knowledge  of  God  really  won  till  it  has 
helped  me  to  do  something  for  Him  or  His  chil- 
dren. 

(2)  Let  there  be  no  work  without  its  insight ;  let 
me  take  satisfaction  in  no  active  labor,  however 
brilliant,  however  helpful  it  may  seem  to  men, 
unless  there  come  out  of  it  some  deeper  insight  of 
God,  and  so  some  chance  to  love  Him  better  and  be 
more  wholly  His. 

So  shall  the  great  words  of  Hosea  the  Prophet  be 
fulfilled  anew  in  our  happy,  growing  lives:  "  Then 


SATURDAY   AFTER   THE   FOURTH    SUNDAY.    1 75 

shall  we  know,  if  we  follow  on  to  know  the  Lord. 
His  going  forth  is  prepared  as  the  morning  ;  and 
he  shall  come  to  us  as  the  rain,  as  the  latter  and 
former  rain  unto  the  earth." 

The  thought  without  the  act  is  vain 
As  seed  that  yields  no  harvest  grain  ; 
The  act  without  the  thought  is  dead 
As  cinders  whence  the  flame  is  fled. 

Think  well,  that  when  thy  thought  is  grown 

Some  noble  action  shall  be  sown  : 

Act  well,  that  when  thine  act  is  o'er 

Bright  thoughts  may  warm  thy  heart  once  more. 

O  Blessed  Saviour,  grant  that  in  contemplation  I  may  sit  at  Thy 
feet ;  and  in  action  that  I  may  follow  in  Thy  blessed  footsteps 
which  went  about  doing  good.     Amen. 


Iflftb  Sunba?  in  Xent 

And  it  was  now  dark,  and  Jesus  was  not  yet  come  to  them.— 
John,  vi.,  17. 

Man's  darkness  and  Christ's  presence  belong 
together.  Darkness — of  pain,  of  mystery,  of  bewil- 
derment with  regard  to  the  true  way  of  action, — 
darkness  in  any  sense  demands  Christ's  presence  as 
the  completing  element,  is  strange,  unhappy,  bad 
without  Him,  becomes  natural,  serene,  healthy, 
hopeful,  when  it  has  received  Him  as  its  interpreta- 
tion and  illumination.     That  is  our  truth. 

It  is  what  He  said  Himself  when  He  declared 
that  it  was  not  the  righteous,  but  the  sinners  whose 
need  had  called  Him,  and  when  He  drew  the  imper- 
ishable picture  of  the  lost  sheep  and  the  longing 
Shepherd  seeking  for  it  in  the  wilderness.  So  the 
men  in  the  boat  on  the  lake  had  still  something  to 
do  with  Jesus.  He  was  theirs  ;  they  were  His. 
Their  darkness  had  in  it  the  possibility  of  His 
enlightenment.  However  He  did  it, — whether,  as 
He  ultimately  chose  to  do  it,  by  coming  to  them 

£76 


FIFTH   SUNDAY  IN  LENT.  177 

walking  on  the  water  or  in  any  other  way, — the  end 
must  be  that  He  would  come,  for  they  were  His  and 
He  was  theirs.  Suppose  that  they  had  known  this, 
how  different  the  gathering  darkness  would  have 
been  to  them  !  How  the  darknesses  of  life  are 
altered  when  a  man  thoroughly  knows,  as  he 
approaches  one  of  them,  that  in  it,  because  of  its 
peculiar  nature,  Christ  will  be  able  to  make  a  revela- 
tion of  Himself  peculiar  and  peculiarly  precious,  one 
which  only  in  such  peculiar  darkness  could  be  possi- 
ble. New  truths  of  spiritual  life  come  out  like  stars. 
New  depths  which  the  glare  of  prosperity  had  sim- 
ply made  to  shine  and  dazzle,  now  open  with  all  their 
distinguished  and  discriminated  richness.  And  lo! 
creation  widens  in  the  view  of  the  man  to  whom  Christ 
has  come  not  merely  in  the  light,  but  in  the  dark. 

You  say,  "  Yes;  but  this  man  of  whom  you  are 
talking  is  the  man  in  the  dark  to  whom  Christ  has 
come.  Speak  about  the  men  in  the  dark  to  whom 
Jesus  has  not  come.  We  are  such  men.  The  dark- 
ness is  very  real  to  us, — darkness  of  disappointment 
darkness  of  sin,  darkness  of  practical  bewilderment ! 
It  is  mere  mockery  for  us  to  hear  of  men  to  whom 
in  their  darkness  Christ  has  come.  He  does  not 
come  to  us.  We  have  waited  and  waited,  and  He 
does  not  come, — what  can  you  say  to  usf 

za 


1/8  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Two  things  only.  The  first  is  that  expectancy, 
the  looking  for  something,  for  some  One  who,  I 
know,  is,  and  who,  I  am  sure,  must  come  to  me  at 
last — that  is  a  noble  state.  Indeed,  one  learns  to 
think  that  expectation  and  attainment  are  not  sep- 
arated by  any  such  broad  lines  as  we  used  to  imag- 
ine ;  they  meet  and  mingle  at  their  edges.  While 
the  disciples  peered  into  the  dark  for  Jesus,  and 
said,  throucfh  the  roaringr  of  the  storm  to  one 
another,  *'  Oh,  if  He  were  only  here!  "  was  not  that 
wish  for  Him  a  sort  of  presence  of  Him  in  their 
boat  ?  And  so  the  man  in  doubt  w^ho  waits  for  cer- 
tainty, the  man  in  w^eakness  who  cries  out  for  God's 
strength,  the  man  in  sin  who  prays  for  holiness, 
however  the  things  he  prays  for  may  seem  to  delay 
their  coming,  has,  in  the  very  struggle — the  cry, 
the  prayer,  the  hope — the  spirit  and  anticipated 
power  of  the  thing  he  waits  for. 

And  the  other  thing — which  perhaps  is  not 
another,  but  only  the  same  thing  in  another  form — 
is  this  :  that  Christ  was  with  the  disciples,  not 
merely  subjectively  in  their  imaginations,  but  really 
He  was  with  them  all  the  time.  "  Jesus  was  not 
come  to  them,"  the  story  says;  but  we  must  know 
more  than  we  know  now,  more  than  we  can  know, 
of  the  nature  of  that  mysterious  Figure  \vhich  by- 


THE   FIFTH   SUNDAY   IN   LENT.  1 79 

and-by  grew  out  of  the  darkness  and  came  across 
the  water  to  their  boat,  before  we  can  say  what  the 
real,  objective  meaning  of  His  coming  was.  He  had 
been  with  them  all  the  time.  His  love,  His  watch- 
fulness, had  never  left  them.  When  He  came  to 
them,  it  was  to  their  sight,  their  consciousness,  their 
comfort,  that  He  came. 

Do  you  see  what  this  means  ?  Are  you  in  dark- 
ness ?  Do  you  hear  other  men  in  their  boats, 
through  the  darkness,  welcoming  Christ  ?  Do  you 
say,  "  Why  does  He  not  come  to  me  ?"  Never 
cease  to  cry  out  for  Him  until  your  eyes  have  seen 
Him,  till  your  hands  have  touched  Him;  but  mean- 
while, till  then,  be  sure  that,  seen  or  unseen,  just 
because  He  is  Christ,  He  must  he  with  you.  Work 
as  if,  though  you  could  not  see  Him,  you  knew  that 
He  saw  you.  Be  faithful  to  the  Christ  who  shall 
some  day  make  Himself  known  to  you.  Do  what, 
if  He  were  In  your  life.  He  would  want  you  to  do ; 
and  then,  when  at  last  the  curtain  is  drawn  back, 
and  you  see  Him  who  has  been  with  you  unseen  all 
the  time.  His  **  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  ser- 
vant!  "  shall  cover  all  the  long  days  of  patient 
waiting,  as  well  as  the  bright  day  of  eager  and 
satisfied  sight. 

May  God  grant  It  for  us  all  who  have  to  wait ! 


l80  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

Oh,  the  waiting  time,  my  brothers, 

Is  the  hardest  time  of  all ! 
But  at  last  we  learn  the  lesson 

That  God  knoweth  what  is  best ; 
And  with  wisdom  cometh  patience, 

And  with  patience  cometh  rest. 
Yea,  a  golden  thread  is  shining 

Through  the  tangled  woof  of  fate 
And  our  hearts  shall  thank  Him  meekly 

That  He  taught  us  how  to  wait. 

Lord,  who  art  gracious  to  them  that  wait  upon  Thee,  be  our  arm 
of  strength  in  every  time. 

Make  us  to  wait  patiently  Thy  time,  knowing  that  all  times  are  in 
Thy  hand. 

Perfect  Thy  work  in  us,  and  let  our  eyes  behold  Thy  salvation. 

Thine  is  the  blessing  and  glory,  and  thanksgiving,  and  power,  for 
ever  and  ever.     Amen. 


flDon&ap  after  tbe  flttb  Sun&a?» 

Then  said  Jesus  unto  them,  My  time  is  not  yet  come,  but  your 
time  is  always  ready. — John,  vii.,  6. 

Christ's  brethren  were  urging  Him  to  go  up  to 
Jerusalem  and  show  Himself.  .  .  .  Jesus  an- 
swers them :  No,  you  can  go,  but  I  must  not ;  I 
have  a  work  to  do  which  binds  me  with  responsibil- 
ities. You,  in  your  lower,  less  burdened,  less 
responsible,  less  inspired  life  are  more  free  than  I ; 
my  time  is  not  yet  come,  but  your  time  is  always 
ready. 

It  must  have  been  a  sad,  but  not  a  strange  expe- 
rience to  Him.  It  was  simply  the  point  where  the 
Higher  Nature,  with  the  greater  work,  submitted 
Itself  to  constraints  and  necessities  from  which  the 
lower  natures,  with  their  smaller  tasks,  were  free. 
.  We  can  think  of  our  lives  as  set  in  almost 
anywhere,  and  made  by  the  ages  and  the  places 
into  which  they  fell  into  any  one  of  a  hundred 
things;  but  when  He  said,  '*  Lo !  I  come  to  do  Thy 

i8i 


1 82  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

will,  O  Lord,"  that  consecration  bound  Him  to  the 
definite  career  which  the  Incarnation  introduced. 
For  Him  the  manger  at  Bethlehem,  the  road  down 
into  Egypt,  the  home  at  Nazareth,  the  baptism  at 
Jordan,  were  all  w^aiting.  The  prophecies,  the  whole 
prophetic  history  w^hich  had  made  ready  for  His 
coming  bound  Him  with  golden  chains.  His  con- 
sciousness developed  and  His  will  made  its  choice; 
still  there  was  only  one  thing  that  He  must  choose 
to  be  and  do, — "  Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be  about 
my  Father's  business?"  How  the  sublime  com- 
pulsion which  those  'words  express  sounds  in  sharp 
contrast  with  that  claim  of  voluntariness  which,  as 
it  makes  the  danger,  also  makes  the  glory  of  the 
ordinary  boy  beginning  life!  The  thing  that  He 
must  do  held  Him  fast  from  the  very  first.  "  For 
this  cause  was  I  born,  and  for  this  cause  came  I 
into  the  w^orld  "  ;  so  He  was  always  saying,  alike 
when  He  went  to  John  to  be  baptized,  and  when 
He  stood  before  Pilate  to  be  condemned. 

When  I  understand  this,  when  I  see  how  truly  He 
was  thus  constrained  because  He  was  Divine,  then  I 
seem  to  come  into  the  presence  of  a  thought  which 
ought  always  to  be  full  of  the  profoundest  solemnity 
and  comfort.  That  thought  Is  the  necessary  ele- 
ment of  compulsion  in  the  life    of    God.     We  rest 


MONDAY   AFTER   THE   FIFTH    SUNDAY.         1 83 

upon  Ilim  not  alone  in  the  possibilities  but  also  in 
the  impossibilities  of  His  life, — whatever  comes, 
whatever  men  may  choose  to  do  or  be,  He  can  never 
be  anything  but  just  and  good  and  holy.  All  our 
unanswered  prayers,  all  our  wild  wishes  that  are  not 
fulfilled,  all  the  delays  of  consolation  and  relief, — 
they  all  cease  to  be  utterly  bewildering  and  exas- 
perating when  we  know  and  hourly  remember  that 
every  one  of  them  goes  up  into  the  presence  of  a  God 
who  is  as  full  of  the  compulsions  of  wisdom  and  holi- 
ness as  He  is  of  the  impulses  of  love.  .  .  .  By- 
and-by  we  come  to  know,  through  many  experiences 
which  almost  broke  our  hearts  as  we  received  them, 
but  which  we  now  thank  God  for  in  our  most  grate- 
ful prayers,  that  a  million  disappointments  of  our 
wishes  are  a  cheap  price  enough  to  pay  for  the  con- 
viction rooted  and  grounded  immovably  at  the  very 
bottom  of  our  souls  that  God  must  do  the  right, 
that  however  He  may  love  a  child  of  His,  He  can- 
not for  that  child  do  anything  that  is  wrong,  or 
leave  anything  that  is  right  undone. 

All  this  w^as  at  once  manifested  and  deepened  in 
the  Incarnation.  The  Bible  never  hesitates  to 
speak  of  the  surrender  of  freedom  which  the  Incar- 
nation of  Christ  involved  as  part  of  the  true  sacrifice 
which    He    made    for    us.     .     .     .     And    so    those 


1 84  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

chains  which  the  will  of  Christ  to  save  us  bound 
around  the  freedom  of  His  life,  become  perpetual 
witnesses  not  only  of  His  love  but  also  of  our  sin. 
Terrible  indeed  must  be  the  wickedness  of  a  world 
into  which  its  Maker  and  Master  cannot  come 
except  through  the  door  of  deprivation  and  con- 
tempt ! 

And  yet  He  came !  And  so  the  sacrifices  which 
He  made  are  signals  also  of  His  love.  And  they  are 
witnesses  also  of  this,  which  all  men  must  learn  who 
shall  at  any  time  undertake  to  walk  in  the  footsteps 
of  Jesus,  and  do  something  for  the  salvation  of  their 
brethren — that  every  attainment  of  usefulness,  of 
real,  saving  power,  can  come  only  by  the  restriction 
and  sacrifice  of  freedom.  He  who  will  in  any 
degree  become  a  saviour  must  see  other  men  go  up 
to  the  feast  while  he  lingers  behind ;  must  wait 
until  his  hour  comes ;  must  be,  among  the  men  that 
he  would  save,  "  as  one  that  serveth  "  ;  must  gird 
himself  and  wash  the  feet  of  those  whose  souls  he 
wants  to  save.  Thank  God  the  lesson  has  been  an 
easy  one  for  multitudes  of  men  and  women  to  learn 
since  it  was  written  in  the  Face  of  Christ !  Thou- 
sands have  leaped,  as  to  the  gospel  for  which  their 
lives  were  thirsty,  to  the  great  truth  which  they 
read  there — that  the  exaltation  of  nature,  while  it 


MONDAY   AFTER  THE   FIFTH    SUNDAY.  1 85 

means  freedom  of  soul,  means  restraint  of  action ; 
and  so  they  have  taken  up  the  bounded  and  Hmited 
hfe  which  lay  before  them,  as  the  symbol  and  wit- 
ness that  they  had  entered  by  the  new  birth  into  the 
full  liberty  of  Christ. 

So,  let  him  wait  the  instant  men  call  years  ; 
Meantime  hold  hard  by  truth,  and  his  great  soul 
Do  out  the  duty. 

And  Duty  opens  wide  the  door 

By  which  Love  enters  free, 
The  Love  whose  rule  is  largest  life 

And  purest  liberty. 

O  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Who,  being  Infinite,  didst  for  our  sake  deign 
to  encompass  Thyself  with  limitations  ;  curb  our  hearts,  wills, 
imaginations,  desires  ;  that  law  and  instruction  may  be  our  orna- 
ment of  grace  and  chains  of  dignity,  and  that  Thy  service  may  be 
our  perfect  freedom.     Amen. 


^ue6&ai?  after  tbe  fiftb  Sunba?, 

My  time  is  not  yet  come,  but  your  time  is  always  ready. — JohN 
vii.,  6. 

Our  text  speaks  not  merely  of  the  constraint  of 
the  higher  nature,  but  also  of  the  freedom  of  the 
lower.  Where  Christ  was  bound,  His  disciples,  as 
living  lower  lives  and  bearing  lower  responsibilities 
than  His,  were  free.  .  .  .  We  can  consider 
them,  we  can  consider  ourselves,  remember,  in  two 
different  ways.  In  one  view,  we  are  workers  with 
Christ,  we  are  called  upon  to  share  His  nature,  and 
so  we  enter  into  all  the  restraints  of  freedom  which 
belong  to  Him.  In  the  other  view,  we  are  beings 
for  whom  He  is  working;  He  takes  the  responsi- 
bility off  of  our  shoulders ;  we  have  but  to  let  Him 
do  for  us  that  which  He  is  all  ability  and  willingness 
to  do. 

If  we  for  one  moment  separate,  then,  the  second 
thought,  the  thought  of  the  freedom  from  care 
which  belongs  to  the  lower  life,  led  and  watched 
over  by  the  Higher,  see  how  rich  it  is!     The  Lord 

i86 


TUESDAY   AFTER   THE   FIFTH    SUNDAY.         187 

said  to  His  disciples,  "  Go  up  to  the  feast  now;  I 
am  not  ready  yet."  Enough  for  you,  He  seems  to 
say,  that  I  keep  in  my  anxious  heart  the  plan  of  the 
great  work  which  must  be  done;  enough  that  I 
accept  its  constraints  and  bow  to  its  necessities. 
You  have  only  to  go  upon  your  way  and  do  your 
duties  as  they  come  to  you,  and  I  will  see  that  they 
are  all  wrought  into  the  great  system,  and  make 
their  little  part  of  my  complete  success. 

Do  you  not  see  the  parable  ?  There  is  one  great 
and  welcome  view  of  life  in  which  we  have  a  right 
to  think  that  God  commands  us  just  to  go  on  and 
do  our  clear  duties,  and  He  will  see  that  they  work 
out  completely  ultimately  in  the  great  design.  .  .  . 
When  the  whole  great  design  grows  dim  before  us, 
when  we  find  it  hard  to  trace  any  great  purpose  run- 
ning through  this  snarl  of  life,  when  doubt  of  the 
great  consummation  makes  us  weak,  oh,  how 
strength  comes  to  us  from  the  conviction  of  the 
freedom  of  the  lower  nature!  Then,  just  to  go  on 
and  do  our  duties  one  by  one,  even  without  know- 
ing where  they  are  leading  us  ;  to  make  to-day's 
hard  march,  to  fight  to-day's  hard  battle,  and  leave 
the  great  campaign  where  it  belongs,  in  the  wise 
Captain's  hands, — there  is  the  only  comfort,  the 
only  light,  which  oftentimes  seems  left  to  us;  and 


1 88  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

when  we  take  it  in  profound  humility,  behold !  it  is 
enough.  Doing  the  duty  that  we  see,  living  by  the 
truth  we  know,  His  promise  is  fulfilled  to  us, — we 
do  not  walk  in  darkness,  but  we  have  the  light  of 
life. 

It  seems  to  me  that  we  can  have  no  better  picture 
of  the  life  that  we  are  called  upon  to  live  than  in 
the  thought  of  Christ's  disciples  after  they  had  gone 
up  to  Jerusalem,  and  while  they  were  waiting  there 
for  Christ  to  come.  They  were  there  because  He 
had  sent  them,  and  they  knew  that,  by-and-by, 
when  He  arrived,  they  would  understand  what  it  all 
meant,  why  this  great  Feast  of  Tabernacles  should 
be  held,  and  why  they  should  take  part  in  it,  and 
what  new,  better  thing  was  to  grow  out  of  it. 
Meanwhile  they  did  their  part  in  the  great  ceremony 
like  the  Jews,  waiting  for  Christ.  And  so  we  often 
seem  to  have  come  where  we  are,  into  the  tasks 
which  we  have  to  do,  into  the  truths  which  we 
believe,  sent  there  by  Christ ;  and  we  are  waiting 
for  Christ  to  come  up  to  the  feast  and  put  His  full 
life  into  what  yet  seems  to  be  only  half-filled,  dimly 
filled  with   Him.     Our  souls,   our  hearts,   cry  out, 

Come,  Lord  Jesus!  Come,  and  make  all  truth 
clear;  come,  and  make  all  duty  rich  and  easy  with 
Thy  love !  ' ' 


TUESDAY  AFTER  THE   FIFTH    SUNDAY.         1 89 

What  shall  wc  do  until  He  comes  ?  Not  blame 
Him  or  complain  of  His  slowness,  know  always  that 
His  higher  nature  must  have  constraints  and  delays 
which  ours  cannot  understand,  rejoice  that  even 
now  we  may  have  the  light  that  comes  of  knowing 
that  we  are  where  He  has  sent  us,  and  then  work 
and  believe, — work  as  courageously  and  cheerfully 
as  possible,  believe  with  all  the  faith  we  can, — but 
do  both  with  our  eyes  always  fixed  upon  the  gate 
by  which,  when  His  time  shall  be  ready,  He  shall 
enter  into  His  temple  and  complete  our  life. 

.     .     .     For  I  have  learned  by  knocking  at  Heaven's  gate 
The  meaning  of  one  golden  word  that  shines  above  it,  ' '  Wait  !  " 
For  with  the  Master  whom  to  serve  is  not  to  ride  or  run, 
But  only  to  abide  His  will,  "  Well  waited  is  well  done." 

Grant  to  me,  O  Blessed  Lord  Jesus,  patience  in  waiting  for  Thee, 
and  diligence  in  working  for  Thee  ;  and  that  in  doing  both  my  heart 
may  be  filled  with  such  loving  trust  in  Thee  that  the  waiting  shall 
not  seem  long,  nor  the  work  hard  ;  so  that  both  shall  be  done  to  Thy 
glory.     Amen. 


Me&ne0ba\>  after  tbe  fifth  Sun&a^* 

Behold,  we  go  up  to  Jerusalem.— Mark,  x.,  33. 

Every  yearly  Passover  Jesus  went  up  to  the 
national  temple,  and  while  He  was  there  He  taught 
some  of  His  profoundest  teachings  and  did  many  of 
His  most  significant  and  mightiest  works. 
The  going  to  Jerusalem  becomes  a  habit,  and  in 
that  habit  the  labor  of  His  life  finds  its  inspiration. 
The  life  that  has  been  consecrated  in  the  city  of 
God,  and  then  educated  in  the  city  of  God,  now 
works  in  the  city  of  God.  It  labors  in  Jerusalem, 
and  its  labors  become  but  the  utterance  of  the 
nature  and  will  of  the  King  in  whose  kingly  city 
they  are  done.  Not  now  in  one  single  act,  but  in  a 
continuous  resort  thither,  which  represents  the  con- 
tinual need  and  allegiance  of  all  His  life,  Jesus  goes 
to  Jerusalem  that  His  work  may  be  filled  with  the 
meaning  and  the  glory  of  the  Divine  Light  whose 
symbolical  earthly  dwelling-place  was  there.  He 
talks  with  Nicodemus,  and  cures  the  cripple,  and 

lyo 


WEDNESDAY   AFTER   THE   FIFTH    SUNDAY.     I9I 

forgives  the  wretched  woman,  and  raises  Lazarus,  in 
or  close  by  the  city  of  God,  that  the  wisdom,  the 
health,  the  forgiveness,  the  new  life,  may  be  seen 
and  declared  to  be  the  gifts  of  His  Father,  who  is 
King  of  all. 

Now,  is  not  the  perpetual  meaning  of  these  visits 
clear  ?  Do  we  not  see  the  way  in  which  they  are  to 
be  repeated  in  all  our  life  ?  Beyond  our  first  con- 
ception of  ourselves  as  God's  children, — beyond  our 
education  under  Him,  so  that  our  ideas  shall  take 
His  color, — something  more  is  needed.  Our  daily 
work,  the  constant  occupation  of  our  life,  needs  to  be 
done  in  His  presence,  and  to  be  shone  through  and 
through  by  Him.  Often  it  is  the  hardest  part  of  our 
religion.  It  is  comparatively  easy  to  keep  hidden 
away  in  the  most  sacred  and  secret  chamber  of  our 
soul  the  general  consecration  of  our  life  to  God, 
easy,  comparatively,  to  shape  our  thought  after 
what  we  know  of  Him,  but  our  work — these  things 
which  we  have  to  do  day  after  day  for  our  living, 
these  things  which  we  have  to  do  as  merchants, 
scholars,  lawyers,  clerks,  school  teachers,  house- 
keepers, mechanics, — to  do  all  these  in  Jerusalem, 
under  God's  kingship,  as  His  servants,  so  that  His 
light  shall  shine  through  them,  and  men  shall  see 
not  us  or  our  act  alone,  but  Him, — that  is  the  per- 


192  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

petual  hardness  of  the  Christian  Hfe.  Unselfishness 
and  elevation — those  are  the  qualities  that  make  the 
transparent  beauty  of  an  act  done  in  Jerusalem, 
done  in  the  sight  and  love  and  loyalty  of  God. 
Even  our  most  gracious  actions,  even  our  help  of 
our  fellow-men,  done  out  of  Jerusalem,  done  out- 
side of  a  presently  apprehended  love  of  God,  are 
clouded  with  some  sort  of  selfishness  and  sordid- 
ness.  They  become  perfectly  clear  in  us  only  as 
they  were  perfectly  clear  in  Christ,  by  being  done, 
every  one  of  them,  in  the  immediate  presence  of 
God,  out  of  desire  to  serve  Him,  and  to  show  Him, 
and  to  make  His  will  succeed.  I  am  sure  that  if  we 
contemplate  them  carefully,  we  shall  see  that  this  is 
the  real  essence  of  the  difference  between  Christ's 
Christian  life  and  ours.  Our  life  is  lived  in  a  gen- 
eral consecration  to  God,  but  with  Him  every  act  is 
conscious  of  God  and  filled  with  Him.  So  selfish- 
ness and  sordidness  are  utterly  absent  in  His  life, 
but  they  are  always  showing  themselves  in  ours. 

It  is  good  to  go  for  work  to  the  Holy  City  to 
which  you  have  already  gone  for  consecration.  It 
is  good  to  bring  every  special  act,  to  do  every 
special  duty,  within  the  light  of  that  motive  to 
which  your  life  as  a  whole  is  given.  Fill  your 
cheapest  action  with  the  enthusiasm  of  your  best 


WEDNESDAY   AFTER   THE   FIFTH    SUNDAY.     I93 

desires  and  hopes,  let  your  most  commonplace  work 
be  part  of  the  same  consecrated  life  with  your  brav- 
est heroism,  as  the  drummer-boy  is  part  of  the  same 
army  with  the  general.  That  is  the  true  secret  of 
noble  life,  and  that  is  the  lesson  of  Christ's  working 
visits  to  Jerusalem. 

And  everywhere,  here  and  always, 

If  we  would  but  open  our  eyes, 
We  should  find  through  these  beaten  footpaths 

Our  way  into  Paradise. 

Dull  earth  would  be  dull  no  longer, 

The  clod  would  sparkle — a  gem  ; 
And  our  hands,  at  their  commonest  labor, 

Would  be  building  Jerusalem. 

Almighty  and   merciful  God,   into  whose  gracious  Presence  we 

ascend,  not  by  the  frailty  of  the  flesh,  but  by  the  activity  of  the  soul : 

make  us  ever,  by  Thy  inspiration,  to  seek  after  the  courts  of  the 

heavenly  City,  and,  by  Thy  mercy,  confidently  to  enter  them,  both 

here  and  hereafter.     Amen. 
13 


XTbure&a?  after  tbe  jflftb  Sun&a?* 

For  Jesus  ofttimes  resorted  thither  with  His  disciples. — John, 
xviii.,  2. 

These  words  occur  in  the  story  of  the  night 
before  the  Crucifixion.  Jesus  had  eaten  the  pass- 
over  supper  with  His  disciples,  and  after  it  was  over 
He  went  out  with  them,  and  having  crossed  the 
brook  Kedron,  He  entered  the  Garden  of  Geth- 
semane.  It  was  old,  familiar  ground  to  Him. 
Many  an  experience  was  already  associated  with 
that  bit  of  grass  and  those  old  olive  trees.  He  had 
thought  and  prayed  and  suffered  there  already,  and 
when  He  saw  a  new  experience  approaching,  and 
that  the  greatest  of  experiences,  the  very  crisis  of 
His  earthly  life,  His  steps  turned  back  to  the  old 
haunt.  It  was  as  if  He  rested  and  steadied  Himself 
upon  all  His  previous  experience  as  He  undertook 
His  final  work  of  suffering  and  death. 

It  is  good  for  us  to  know  this;  it  is  good  for 
Christians  to  understand  that  it  is  by  the  life  as  well 

194 


THURSDAY   AFTER   THE   FIFTH    SUNDAY.       I95 

as  the  death  of  Jesus  that  their  souls  are  saved. 
The  power  of  the  Cross  was  that  same  power  which 
had  been  in  all  the  life  which  led  up  to  the  Cross. 
All  through  that  life  of  the  God-man,  God  had  been 
giving  Himself  to  man  in  love;  man  had  been  giving 
himself  to  God  in  obedience.  So  we  want  to  find* 
in  every  life  the  true  relation  between  its  quiet, 
uneventful  periods  and  the  critical  moments  which 
here  and  there  break  through  its  calmness.  It  is 
possible  so  to  live  that  the  great  moments  of  your 
life  shall  not  be  wild  convulsing  meteors  or  tempests. 
Men  have  learned  that  tempests  and  meteors  are  but 
the  culminating  points  of  processes  that  are  at  work 
upon  the  calmest  days.  It  is  while  you  are  doing  a 
thousand  Httle  duties  in  the  fear  of  God  that  you 
are  slowly  growing  into  familiarity  with  Him.  It  is 
while  you  are  patiently  toiling  at  the  little  tasks  of 
life  that  the  meaning  and  shape  of  the  great  whole 
of  life  dawns  upon  you.  It  is  while  you  are  resist- 
ing little  temptations  that  you  are  growing  strong. 
Character,  by  the  very  necessities  of  its  nature, 
cannot  be  made  except  by  steady,  long-continued 
process,  by  pressure  after  pressure  and  blow  after 
blow. 

Such    a    truth    seems    to    put    dignity    into    the 
uneventful  moments  and  years  of  life.     It  redeems 


196  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

the  monotony  of  living.  You  say:  **  I  am  doing 
nothing,  nothing  but  running  this  weary  round, 
nothing  but  finishing  one  day  only  to  begin  another. 
How  dull  and  dreary  life  is!  "  Oh!  it  is  not  dull, 
and  it  need  not  be  dreary,  if  it  is  making  you  know 
God,  and  know  yourself,  and  grow  good.  Some- 
time the  even  level  will  be  broken  up ;  sometime  the 
crisis  will  arrive.  Your  life  will  not  always  be 
uneventful.  Perhaps  the  tempest  and  the  battle  are 
to  come  to-morrow ;  perhaps  they  are  yet  long  years 
away.  What  does  it  matter  ?  They  are  sure  to 
come; — at  least  the  great  event  that  comes  in 
every  life  will  come  to  you — that  event  which 
we  call  dying.  No  life  is  so  vulgar  and  mean 
but  that  it  arrives,  sooner  or  later,  at  the  dignity 
of  death.  The  crisis  will  come,  but  the  power  of 
the  crisis  is  here  and  now,  in  these  days  which  you 
are  ready  to  call  dull  and  insignificant.  Oh,  if 
you  could  see  how  they  are  all  burdened  with  criti- 
cal n  ess  ! 

The  ship  is  out  on  mid-ocean ;  and  it  is  midnight, 
and  the  storm  is  wild.  The  winds  are  savage,  and 
the  sea  is  terrible.  We  say  the  ship  is  struggling 
for  her  life.  But,  tell  me,  where  was  the  real  strug- 
gle of  that  vessel  ?  Was  it  not  long  ago  upon  the 
hillside  where  her  timbers  grew,  and  in  the  shipyard 


THURSDAY  AFTER  THE   FIFTH   SUNDAY.       I97 

where  her  nails  were  driven  ?  Then  it  was  decided 
whether  she  was  to  go  to  the  bottom,  or  come  safely 
to  her  port.  So,  as  I  look  forward,  I  can  sec  you, 
on  some  day  in  the  years  to  come,  wrestling  with 
the  great  temptation  or  trembling  like  a  reed  under 
the  great  sorrow  of  your  life,  a  temptation  or  a  sor- 
row of  which  you  have,  as  yet,  no  conception. 
That  crisis  may  be  years  away.  But  the  real  strug- 
gle is  not  tJicn,  but  7iozv — here,  on  this  quiet  day 
and  in  these  quiet  weeks.  Noiv  it  is  being  decided 
whether,  in  the  day  of  your  supreme  sorrow  or 
temptation,  you  shall  miserably  fail  or  gloriously 
conquer. 

Christ  is  the  Son  of  God,  the  Interpreter  of  life, 
the  Giver  of  character;  if  you  are  His,  His  strength 
is  entering  into  you  ;  no  moment  of  your  life  is 
insignificant.  Each  least  act  opens  some  new  cor- 
ner of  your  nature  and  appropriates  Him  a  little 
more  fully ;  and  all  that  He  is  doing  for  you  now 
shall  be  made  known  at  last.  To-morrow  or  next 
year,  or  years  hence,  or  an  eternity  away,  when  the 
test  comes,  when  the  blow  falls,  you  shall  be  more 
than  conqueror  through  Him  who  is  becoming  your 
Christ  now.  Therefore  take  courage,  and  every 
day  give  yourself  to  Him  that  He  may  give  Himself 
to  you. 


198  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

"We  stride  the  river  daily  at  its  spring, 

Nor,  in  our  childish  thoughtlessness,  foresee 

What  myriad  vassal  streams  shall  tribute  bring. 
How  like  an  equal  it  shall  greet  the  sea. 

O  small  beginnings,  ye  are  great  and  strong, 
Based  on  a  faithful  heart  and  weariless  brain  ; 

Ye  build  the  future  fair,  ye  conquer  wrong, 
Ye  earn  the  crown,  and  wear  it  not  in  vain. 

O  God,  Who  hast  made  us  in  Thine  own  Image  and  Likeness,  and 
hast  placed  that  before  us  perfectly  in  the  life  of  Thy  dear  Son  ;  give 
us  strength  and  determination  to  act  habitually  as  in  Thy  sight, 
according  to  Thy  will :  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


3frlba^  after  the  flftb  Sunba?. 

For  it  became  Him,  for  whom  are  all  things,  and  by  whom  are  all 
things,  in  bringing  many  sons  unto  glory,  to  make  the  Captain  of 
their  salvation  perfect  through  suffering. — Heb.,  ii.,  lo. 

It  is  not  every  sort  of  suffering  that  trains  the 
souls  of  men.  Simple  suffering,  taken  by  itself,  has 
never  any  such  educating  power;  it  gets  it  only  by 
the  strength  of  some  end  or  purpose  that  is  discov- 
ered in  it.  The  man  who  has  suffered  much,  and 
yet  who  knows  nothing  of  suffering  but  its  pain,  is 
hard  and  not  soft;  is  selfish,  querulous,  ungrateful. 
The  blows  have  beaten  his  outer  nature  into  a  crust 
to  keep  the  inner  life  more  than  ever  a  prisoner, 
instead  of  breaking  the  outer  life  to  let  the  inner  life 
forth. 

What,  then,  must  we  put  into  suffering  to  make 
it  a  true  means  of  education  ?  Two  things :  First, 
hearty  and  cordial  submission  to  another's  will. 
Look  at  the  child  who  patiently  submits  because  his 
father  says  not,  "  You  must,"  but  "  It  is  well  you 
should."     Look  at  the  men  and  women  everywhere 

199 


200  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

who  have  no  question  after  they  have  found  out 
what  God's  will  is,  who  simply  go  and  do  it,  in 
whatever  pain,  because  they  know  it  must  be  right 
and  best  that  His  will  should  be  done.  In  all  such 
cases,  where  suffering  comes  out  of  willing  submis- 
sion to  a  superior  and  trusted  will,  it  brings  the 
sufferer  into  sympathy  with  the  purpose  of  that 
will,  it  demands  spiritual  enterprise  and  faith,  and 
so  it  calls  out  the  better  life  and  educates  the  soul. 

There  is  another  thing  which  you  must  add  to 
suffering  to  make  it  a  means  of  perfection.  It  must 
be  the  suffering  not  merely  of  faith,  but  of  love. 
No  man  grows  the  best  by  what  he  suffers  only  for 
himself.  There  is  not  half  as  much  spiritual  culture 
in  the  pain  of  fever  that  tosses  on  the  sick  bed,  sub- 
missive as  it  may  be  to  God,  as  in  the  pain  of  sleep- 
lessness and  anxiety  that  watches  by  its  side  and 
not  merely  submits  to  God,  but  suffers  for  love  of  a 
fellow  man.  All  the  highest  and  most  educating 
suffering  of  the  world  has  been  vicarious.  It  has 
been  the  suffering  which  the  sufferer  was  in  no  way 
bound  to  bear,  save  as  Jesus  was  bound  to  die  for 
our  sins,  **  for  the  great  love  wherewith  He  loved 
us. 

Put  both  of  these  elements  in,  and  then  you  have 
the  perfect  and  the  perfecting  suffering.     This  is 


FRIDAY  AFTER  THE  FIFTH   SUNDAY.  201 

what  makes  sick-rooms  sweet  and  martyrdoms  glori- 
ous. The  life  is  not  hardened  and  crusted  by  the 
hammer  of  agony,  but  broken  for  the  escape  of  its 
better  and  more  spiritual  portion  by  the  buoyant 
and  elastic  blows. 

In  all  the  sufferings  of  Jesus  both  these  elements 
supremely  met.  You  know  how  solicitious  He  was 
everywhere  to  tell  the  world  that  He  is  no  volun- 
teer, unauthorized  Redeemer,  that  He  is  doing 
what  He  does  in  submission  to  a  Great  Eternal 
Will.  This  is  the  tone  of  everything, — **  Not  Mine, 
but  the  Father's  that  sent  Me."  One  meaning  of 
this  surely  is  that  Christ,  by  this  continual  submis- 
sion of  His  will  to  Deity,  was  helping  forth  the  Deity 
in  His  own  nature  to  full  consciousness  and  power. 
Even  men  have  felt,  when  they  suffered 
supremely  in  submission  to  God,  that  their  submis- 
sive souls  sprang  into  freer  sympathy  with  God  and 
understanding  of  His  plans  ;  what,  then,  must  it 
have  been  for  Him  who  was  God,  self-clouded  in 
humanity  for  awhile,  w^hen,  submissive  to  the  God- 
hood  in  His  suffering,  the  cloud  broke  from  Him, 
and  the  long  exile  was  finished,  and  the  Divinity  of 
the  Son  swept  through  the  encumbrance  of  the 
human  life  and  laid  itself  close  to  the  Divinity  of 
the  Father! 


202  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

The  other  perfecting  element  of  suffering  is  also 
plentiful  in  the  suffering  of  Christ, — He  suffered  for 
love  to  others,  not  for  Hinnself.  "  To  seek  and 
save  that  which  was  lost,"  "  To  call  the  sinners  to 
repentance,"  "  Lifted  up  to  draw  all  men  unto 
Him,"  "  Lifted  up  that  whosoever  believeth  on 
Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  Hfe," 
— take  the  love  for  men  out  of  the  life  of  Jesus,  and 
it  is  as  if  you  had  taken  the  sun  out  of  the  sunlight. 
.  .  .  Does  it  seem  strange  to  say  that  it  was  this 
suffering  for  His  brethren  which  softened  and 
unfolded  the  human  life  of  the  Redeemer,  that  the 
Divine  nature  might  become  more  manifest  and 
active  ?  It  is  but  the  self-same  law  which  decrees 
that  only  when  men  suffer  for  other  people  do  they 
do  their  best,  and  bring  forth  into  their  own  con- 
sciousness and  into  the  sight  of  other  men  the  high- 
est nature  that  is  in  them. 

It  pleased  Him  to  make  the  Captain  of  our  salva- 
tion "  perfect  through  suffering."  This,  which  we 
have  been  trying  to  define,  we  hold  to  be  one  mean- 
ing of  this  wonderful  phrase.  I  do  not  say  that 
there  may  not  be  other  meanings ;  but  this,  at  least, 
is  there — that  the  Divine  Jesus  ripened  and  devel- 
oped into  more  perfect  knowledge  and  use  of  His 
Divinity.     If  we  cannot  without  some  sense  of  vio- 


FRIDAY   AFTER  THE   FIFTH   SUNDAY.  203 

lence  transfer  the  scene  at  the  Last  Supper  and  the 
scene  by  the  lake  of  Tiberias  to  the  earHest  years  of 
Christ,  must  not  the  reason  be  that  Christ  was  made 
perfect  for  them  only  through  the  sufferings  that 
came  so  abundantly  to  Him  in  His  submission  to 
His  Father,  and  His  love  for  His  brethren  ? 


It  is  idle  to  talk  of  suffering  as  if  it  were  the  priv- 
ilege of  a  few  select  lives  only.  Suffering  and  its 
culture,  like  joy  and  its  culture,  are  w^ithin  the  lot 
of  every  man.  He  lives  unworthily  whose  nature 
never  clashes  against  the  lower  natures,  and  suffers 
pain.  But  mere  pain  is  not  education,  does  not 
bring  growth.  It  is  the  suffering  of  willing  submis- 
sion to  God  and  of  self-sacrificing  love  for  fellow- 
men  that  softens  and  spiritualizes  and  blesses  us. 
In  all  such  suffering  let  us  rejoice.  We  shall  not 
need  to  seek,  opportunities  enough  for  it  will  meet 
us  everywhere.  And  may  God  help  us  everywhere 
to  find  the  treasures  they  contain ! 

We  take  with  solemn  thankfulness 
Our  burden  up,  nor  ask  it  less. 
And  count  it  joy  that  even  we 
May  suffer,  serve,  or  wait  for  Thee, 
Whose  will  is  done. 


204  TPIE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

O  my  God,  by  whose  loving  Providence  sorrows,  difficulties,  trials, 
dangers,  become  means  of  grace,  lessons  of  patience,  channels  of 
hope,  grant  me  good  will  to  use  and  not  abuse  these  my  privileges  ; 
and  of  Thy  great  goodness  keep  me  alive  in  Thee  through  this  dying 
life,  that  out  of  death  Thou  mayest  raise  me  up  to  immortality  :  For 
His  sake  who  is  the  Life,  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


Saturba?  after  tbe  jflftb  Simba?» 

And  Jesus  entered  into  Jerusalem. — Mark,  xi.,  ii. 

There  remains  yet  one  more  entrance  of  Jesus 
into  the  Holy  City,  the  most  solemn  of  them  all. 
It  was  His  last.  He  never  came  into  those  streets 
again.  And  now  He  came  to  be  condemned  and 
die.  His  sacrifice  for  man  and  the  culmination  of 
His  sufferings  were  before  Him, — Love,  self-devoting 
Love  and  pain.  And  for  both  of  these  He  comes 
up  to  Jerusalem.  "  It  must  not  be  that  a  prophet 
perish  out  of  Jerusalem."  He  had  served  His 
brother-men  everywhere,  but  when  His  supreme 
service  of  them  comes  it  must  be  in  God's  city.  He 
had  suffered  everywhere,  but  when  His  supreme 
suffering  comes,  that,  too,  must  be  where  His 
Father's  presence  is  most  manifestly  declared,  in 
the  City  of  God.  It  is  the  acceptance  of  the  claims 
of  men,  and  the  need  of  suffering  as  included  in, 
and  impressed  upon  Him  by,  the  will  of  God, — it  is 
this  that  is  signified  by  His  last  visit  to  Jerusalem. 

205 


2o6  THE  MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

And  so  this  visit,  like  the  rest,  comes  home  to 
us.  The  impulse  to  help  men,  to  save  men  if  we 
can,  is  universal.  Very  feebly  in  most  souls,  but 
very  strongly  in  some,  and  with  some  kind  of  flut- 
tering in  all,  the  wish  to  help  and  save  our  brethren 
is  in  our  hearts.  From  the  mere  impulse  of  easy 
good  nature  it  ranges  up  to  the  passion  of  the  eager 
philanthropist.  .  .  .  There  is  the  help  wdiich 
men  give  to  brother  men,  the  sacrifice  which  men 
make  for  brother  men,  purely  for  themselves;  and 
there  are  the  help  and  sacrifice  which  are  given  and 
done  in  the  love  and  name  Ov  God,  The  depth  and 
tenderness  and  constancy  of  men's  relations  to  each 
other  is  completed  when  men  know  one  another  as 
the  children  of  God,  and  live  for  them  and,  if  need 
be,  die  for  them,  as  brethren  in  Him, — only  then. 
The  deepest  natural  affections  need  to  be  taken  into 
the  City  of  God  before  they  come  to  their  best. 
They  must  be  consecrated  by  religion.  The 
mother's  love  for  the  child,  the  child's  duty  to 
the  mother,  the  friend's  friendship  for  the  friend, 
the  citizen's  devotion  to  his  country,  the  man's 
enthusiasm  for  humanity, — they  all  grow  hard  and 
rigid  unless  they  are  kept  bathed  in  the  soul's 
love  of  God.  When  you  have  any  task  to  do, 
any  sacrifice  to  make  for  your  fellow-men,  do  not 


SATURDAY  AFTER  THE  FIFTH   SUNDAY.      20/ 

try  to  do  it  till  you  have  first  put  yourself  and  him 
where  you  both  belong — into  the  family  of  God. 
In  the  rich  atmosphere  of  divine  consecration,  the 
cross  on  which  you  give  yourself  for  fellow-men 
shall  grow  light  as  your  Saviour's  did,  and  it  shall 
be  very  easy  to  lift  it,  very  easy  to  be  lifted  on  it. 
When  you  are  called  upon  to  share  any  part  of  the 
Saviour's  great  work  of  saving  the  world,  go  where 
He  went  to  do  it — into  Jerusalem,  the  City  of  God. 
And  this  is  true  of  the  other  purpose  which 
brought  Jesus  there  on  His  last  visit.  He  had 
pain  to  suffer,  and  He  came  up  to  Jerusalem  to  bear 
it.  Pain  borne  outside  of  the  presence  of  God,  not 
as  His  gift,  not  with  His  sympathy,  is  hardening. 
Pain  borne  in  His  love  and  with  His  help  is  the 
soul's  salvation.  How  great  the  difference  is  when 
that  line  is  crossed !  A  man  is  suffering  one  day  all 
by  himself,  and  he  is  growing  more  bitter  and  hard 
all  the  time;  hard,  stern,  selfish,  that  is  what  his 
suffering  makes  him.  The  next  day  it  has  come 
into  his  heart,  and  gone  all  through  his  nature,  that 
he  is  God's  child,  and  that  his  suffering  has  come  to 
him  not  outside  his  Father's  love.  Behold  the 
difference !  Every  best  part  of  him  now  feeds  upon 
his  pain,  and  "  life  is  perfected  by  death."  Oh! 
there  is  nothing  in  the  world  so  sad  as  to  see  men 


208  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

and  women  suffering  without  God,  nothing  so  noble 
as  have  been  the  sights  which  the  world  has  seen  of 
men  suffering  where  Christ  suffered — in  obedience 
to  the  will  and  in  the  comfort  of  the  love  of  God. 
If  God  calls  upon  you  to  suffer,  go  where  your 
Saviour  went  for  His  sufferings,  into  the  Holy  City 
where  God  is  most  manifest  ;  and  so,  and  tJicre, 
your  suffering  shall  be  to  you  what  His  suffering 
was  to  Him — the  crown,  the  completion,  the  suc- 
cess of  His  life. 

Some  men  used  to  believe  that  the  city  of  Jeru- 
salem was  literally  the  centre  of  the  earth  ;  they 
drew  their  maps  with  all  the  rest  of  the  world  spread 
in  a  circle  round  that  point.  Have  we  not  seen 
what  is  the  spiritual  truth  which  such  ideas  con- 
tained ?  The  true  life  must  always  be  going  up  to 
the  City  of  God.  It  must  go  there  for  its  first  total 
consecration.  It  must  go  there  for  its  education. 
It  must  go  there  for  its  work.  It  must  go  there  to 
catch  sight  of  the  promised  victory.  And  at  last  it 
must  go  there  for  its  final  sacrifice  and  pain,  which 
bring  the  end  and  the  victory.  Under  every  variety 
of  circumstance  we  go  up  to  Him,  and  the  gates  of 
God  are  always  open  to  us.  He  takes  us  in  our 
sorrow  and  our  joy,  in  our  triumph  or  our  shame, 
and  every  mood  and  time  of  life  come  to  their  best 
only  as  they  enter  into  Him. 


SATURDAY   AFTER  THE   FIFTH   SUNDAY.      209 

I  am  not  glad  till  I  have  known 
Life  that  can  lift  me  from  my  own  ; 
A  loftier  level  must  be  won, 
A  mightier  strength  to  lean  upon. 

And  heaven  draws  near  as  I  ascend ; 
The  breeze  invites,  the  stars  befriend  ; 
All  things  are  beckoning  towards  the  Best : 
I  climb  to  Thee,  my  God,  for  rest ! 

O  God,  in  the  time  of  suffering  and  sorrow  give  us  grace  to  come 

to  Thee  for  help ;  that  being  strengthened  by  Thy  Spirit,  we  may  be 

enabled  to  rise  above  our  pains,  and  abide  in  the  peace  of  Thy  love 

and  pardon  :  Through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 
14 


Slytb  Sunba?  in  Xent 

And  when  He  was  come  into  Jerusalem,  all  the  city  was  moved^ 
saying,  Who  is  this? — Matt.,  xxi.,  lo. 

If  we  leave  out  His  enemies,  those  who  concluded 
that  Christ  was  merely  an  impostor  or  a  wild  enthu- 
siast, it  will  be  easy  to  distinguish  three  classes  in 
that  crowd  of  Jerusalem,  giving  three  different 
answers  to  the  question  that  was  tossed  from 
tongue  to  tongue,   "Who  is   He?" 

**  Do  you  not  know  ?"  cries  one.  **  It  is  the 
great  wonder-worker  out  of  Galilee."  And  then 
with  fluent  tongue  and  glowing  face  he  hurries  on 
to  tell  of  all  the  miracles  that  he  has  seen, — of  how 
the  blind  man  down  at  Jericho  received  his  sight,  of 
how  the  lunatic  at  Gadara  was  cured,  of  how  the 
dead  man  here  at  Bethany  came  back  to  life ; — all 
that  the  Lord  had  done,  all  His  mighty  works  were 
told.  "  Let  us  follow  Him,  and  see  what  more 
strange  works  He  will  do."  Another  man  speaks 
not    to    the    crowd,    but   to   some   little   group   of 

2XO 


THE  SIXTH   SUNDAY   IN   LENT.  211 

thoughtful-looking  people  who  he  knows  will  sym- 
pathize with  him.  *'  Who  is  this  ?  "  they  say;  and 
he  replies,  "  The  Truth-teacher  ";  and  he  goes  on 
to  tell,  not  of  the  miracles,  but  of  some  strange, 
profound  words  that  the  Lord  once  spoke.  "  Let 
us  follow  Him;  He  is  going  to  the  temple;  perhaps 
we  shall  hear  something  more."  Another  group 
would  answer  the  question  only  to  their  own  hearts, 
or  at  least  only  to  some  one  most  trusted  friend. 
For  them  the  wonder  of  His  miracles,  even  the  rich- 
ness of  His  truth,  were  nothing  to  the  subtle  influ- 
ence of  love  with  which  He  had  entered  in  and 
turned  them  into  something  like  Himself,  given 
them  His  courage  and  unselfishness  and  peaccful- 
ness  and  patience  and  joy.  Their  answer  was, 
**  The  Heart-changer,  the  Maker  of  new  life  in  men. 
Let  us  follow  Him  that  we  may  be  near  Him ;  to  be 
near  Him  is  to  really  live." 

The  Wonder-worker,  the  Truth-teller,  the  Heart- 
changer! — ^I  know  full  well  which  it  was  that  the 
Saviour  Himself  most  longed  to  be  to  men.  **  The 
works  that  I  do,  they  bear  witness  of  Me,"  He 
declared  ;  "  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him 
hear,"  He  cried;  but  what  a  deep  pathos  came  into 
His  voice  when  He  pleaded,  "  Ye  will  not  come  to 
Me  that  ye  might  have  life!  "     He  loved  to  do  His 


212  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

work;  He  loved  to  speak  His  truth;  but  when  a 
heart  opened  itself  to  Him  and  let  Him  be  its  Life, 
then  His  joy  was  full ;  that  was  what  He  had  come 
for,  that  was  His  Father's  work. 

Dear  friends,  as  our  souls  stand  waiting  for  their 
Deliverer,  what  is  He  whom  we  expect  ?  As  we 
hear  the  sound  of  His  coming  in  all  this  movement 
of  Christian  life  about  us.  Who  is  He  that  comes  ? 
A  Wonder-worker  to  bring  us  forgiveness  ?  A 
Truth-teacher  to  open  Heaven  ?  Yes;  but  He  is 
more  than  that  if  we  will  let  Him  be.  He  must  be 
more  than  that  if  He  is  really  to  save  us.  He 
comes  with  Love  which,  when  He  puts  it  into  us, 
is  Life.  He  comes  with  His  eternal  heart  of  pity 
which,  when  He  gives  it  to  us,  becomes  our  new 
heart  of  trust.  He  brings  us  not  only  His  Power, 
not  only  His  Wisdom,  He  brings  us  Himself,  and 
He  says:  "  He  that  believeth  in  Me,  though  He 
were  dead  yet  shall  he  live." 

On  this  Palm  Sunday,  I  wish  that  some  of  us 
could  hear  the  footsteps  of  the  coming  Christ. 
Slowly,  quietly.  He  is  approaching.  Now  hidden 
and  now  shown  by  the  winding  road,  He  is  pressing 
more  and  more  closely  on  us.  Around  us  men  are 
questioning  about  Him;  they  are  asking,  "  Who  is 
He  ?  "     Let  us  have  our  answer  at  least  ready : 


THE   SIXTH   SUNDAY   IN   LENT.  213 

He  is  my  Saviour.  To  know  Him  has  been  a  new 
life  to  me.  It  has  been  salvation.  Henceforth  not 
I  live,  but  He  liveth  in  me ;  and  where  He  leads  me 
I  will  go,  what  He  makes  me  I  will  be,  now  and 
forever. 

Light  above  light  and  Bliss  above  bliss, 
Whom  words  cannot  utter,  lo  !    Who  is  This  ? 
As  a  king  with  many  crowns  He  stands, 
And  our  names  are  graven  on  His  hands  ; 
As  a  Priest,  with  God-uplifted  eyes, 
He  offers  for  us  His  sacrifice  ; 
As  the  Lamb  of  God  for  sinners  slain, 
That  we  too  may  live  He  lives  again. 

Who  art  Thou,  O  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?  Thou  didst  become  Man  ; 
as  the  First-born  of  every  creature  I  worship  Thee. 

Thou  art  the  Word,  God  and  with  God  ;  as  the  Divine  Word  I 
worship  Thee. 

Thou  art  the  Way  by  which  alone  man  cometh  to  the  Father  ;  a 
wayfarer  liable  to  error  and  beseeching  safeguard,  I  worship  Thee. 

Thou  art  the  Truth,  in  Whom  mercy  and  truth  are  met  together  ; 
in  the  paths  of  Thy  mercy  and  Thy  truth  I  worship  Thee. 

Thou  art  the  Life,  who  hadst  power  to  lay  down  Thy  life  for  us 
and  take  it  again  ;  as  the  Life  of  life  I  worship  Thee. 

O  Thou  Who  hearest  prayer,  and  to  Whom  all  flesh  shall  come, 
grant  me  grace  to  know  and  worship  Thee,  now  and  forever.    Amen. 


fIDon&a?  in  Ibol?  UHlcek 

And  the  multitudes  that  went  before  and  that  followed  cried, 
(Saying,  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David  ;  Blessed  is  He  that  cometh  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord. — Matt.,  xxi.,  9. 

It  was  Christ's  day  of  triumph.  He  whom  the 
people  had  so  often  turned  away  from,  was  now 
surrounded  by  them;  their  shouts  were  ringing  in 
His  ears,  and  He  was  riding  over  the  branches  and 
the  clothes  with  which  they  had  strewn  His  path. 
He  had  been  humiliated  and  restrained.  No  recog- 
nition of  the  kingliness  that  was  in  Him  had  broken 
the  long,  heavy  months  of  contempt  and  persecu- 
tion. Only  a  few  disciples  and  a  little  company  of 
women  had  caught  sight  of  what  He  really  was. 
But  now  at  last  the  darkness  had  broken  into  light, 
the  silence  had  opened  into  utterance.  He  knew 
that  it  belonged  to  Him;  with  calm,  serene  author- 
ity He  took  it  for  His  own.  Each  cry  of  "  Hosan- 
na "  that  rose  about  Him  met  in  His  conscious- 
ness the  certain  knowledge  that  He  was  indeed  a 
King.     ... 

214 


MONDAY    IN    HOLY    WEEK.  21$ 

An  hour  later  Christ,  with  his  shouting  escort, 
entered  into  Jerusalem,  and  "  He  went  into  the 
temple,  and  began  to  cast  out  them  that  sold  there- 
in, and  them  that  bought;  saying  unto  them,  It  is 
written.  My  house  is  the  house  of  prayer,  but  ye 
have  made  it  a  den  of  thieves."  The  traders  of  the 
temple  fled  more  easily  because  it  was  the  people's 
Hero  of  the  moment  who  appeared  with  the  whip  in 
His  hand,  and  indignation  burning  in  His  face.  So 
Jesus  used  His  triumph,  His  greatness,  to  purify  the 
desecrated  temple.  There  was  the  consecration  of 
unselfishness.  Not  for  Himself  was  He  glad  to  be 
acknowledged,  but  because  He  could  so  reclaim  the 
insulted  dignity  of  God. 

Now  put  that  beside  the  ordinary  uses  which  men 
make  of  power.  Only  think  what  it  would  be  if 
every  man  to  whom  came  privilege  or  exaltation 
turned  it  to  that  employment.  How  the  privilege 
itself  would  be  sanctified,  and  how  the  desecrated 
places  of  our  life  would  be  made  holy,  if  every  man 
in  whom  men  saw  genius,  before  whose  feet  they 
scattered  their  applause,  whom  they  escorted  with 
their  shouts  wherever  he  chose  to  go,  should  always 
choose  to  go  straight  to  some  temple  which  belonged 
to  God,  but  which  men  were  profaning  with  their 
wickedness,  and  with  the  fire  of  his  genius  sweep  it 


2l6  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

clean ;  if  every  man  who  towered  above  men  with 
his  colossal  wealth  used  that  almost  despotic  influ- 
ence which  wealth  gives  to  glorify  integrity  and  to 
teach  charity ;  if  every  man  in  high  ofifice  consecrated 
his  power  to  defy  and  stigmatize  corruption  ;  if 
every  popular  man  tried  to  make  men  follow  him  to 
better  lives ;  if  every  woman  powerful  in  social  life 
used  her  position  to  make  Society  more  pure ;  if 
every  brilliant  scholar  tried  to  make  literature  more 
sincere  and  full  of  faith !  This  is  the  only  way  in 
which  powers  become  embalmed  for  ever.  If  Jesus 
had  done  nothing  with  His  triumph,  it  would  have 
died  away  with  the  withering  of  the  palm  branches 
and  the  fading  out  of  the  hosannas  in  the  April  air. 
But  now  the  sound  of  the  lashes  is  ringing  still,  and 
the  world  is  purer  for  them.  It  is  a  terrible  tempta- 
tion to  let  power  go  unused.  But  an  unused  power 
is  lost.  O  prosperous,  powerful,  privileged  people ! 
in  all  your  different  ways  be  like  the  Lord,  and  seal 
and  consecrate  your  privilege  by  using  it  for  some 
glory  of  God. 

I  must  not  seem  to  speak  only  to  the  few  who  are 
specially  great  and  triumphant.  The  humblest  and 
the  poorest  among  you  may  hear  and  remember 
that,  whenever  any  triumph  comes  to  you,  however 
small  it  be,  any  prosperity  or  any  power,  it  is  not 


MONDAY   IN   HOLY   WEEK.  21/ 

wholly  yours  till  you  have  used  it;  and  remember 
Christ  showed  you  the  true  use  of  it,  which  is  to 
glorify  God,  to  stand  up  for  righteousness  in  some 
little  spot,  to  make  the  world  more  pure. 

When  one  sees  the  effect  of  prosperity  on  men,  it 
often  seems  as  strange  that  God,  who  cares  only 
for  men's  best  spiritual  good,  should  allow  His  chil- 
dren to  prosper  as  that  He  should  let  them  be  crushed 
with  misfortune.  For  prosperity  is  always  doing  for 
men  just  the  opposite  of  what  it  did  for  Jesus,  mak- 
ing them  cowards  and  unfitting  them  for  pain.  "  In 
all  time  of  our  prosperity,"  we  may  well  pray, 
*'  Good  Lord,  deliver  us."  Deliver  us  not  only 
from  its  mischiefs,  but  set  us  free  for  its  true  use. 
Make  it  do  for  us  what  it  did  for  Thee.  Give  us  the 
grace  to  grow  by  every  privilege  more  strong  for 
God's  glory  and  honor,  more  pitiful  of  brother 
men,  and  more  ready  for  the  change  when  the  day 
darkens  and  panic  comes  where  peace  is  now. 

We  Christians  are  continually  dwelling  upon  the 
sufferings  of  Jesus,  and  it  is  good  that  we  should  do 
so.  He  was  preeminently  and  peculiarly  the  Saviour 
by  suffering.  It  is  as  the  Man  of  Sorrows,  the  Man 
acquainted  with  grief,  that  He  has  always  made  His 
great  appeal  to  the  heart  of  man.  But  to-day  we 
have  been  led  to  look  upon  the  other  side,  and  think 


2l8  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

how  exalted  and  how  great  He  was.  Behold  !  when 
we  do  that,  we  do  not,  as  we  might  well  fear  to  do, 
lose  sight  and  hold  of  that  helpfulness  and  strength 
in  Christ  which  has  been  most  associated  with,  most 
revealed  to  us  through,  His  humiliation.  As  He  is 
exalted  He  only  shows  to  us  in  new  lights  His  pity 
and  faithfulness.  Here  is  great  reassurance  for  the 
Christian.  Here  is  a  truth  which  many  Christians 
need.  It  sometimes  seems  as  if  the  loftier  views  of 
Christ's  nature,  those  which  most  crowned  Him 
with  the  glory  of  the  Godhead,  might  —  perhaps 
must— separate  His  life  from  ours.  Jesus,  the 
brother  man,  the  sharer  in  my  wants  and  infirmities, 
I  can  take  hold  of  Him.  He  does  pity  me.  But 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  One  with  the  Father,  He  is 
too  far  away.  Can  He  pity  a  poor,  insignificant 
creature  like  me  ?  Is  he  anxious  for  and  busy  with 
the  destinies  of  earth  ?  Have  we  not  lost  Him  from 
the  earth  when  we  have  set  Him  in  the  heavens  ? 

But  never  be  afraid  of  that !  The  souls  that  have 
set  Christ  highest  have  always  found  Him  dearest. 
The  more  you  understand  how  far  He  is  above  you, 
the  more  you  will  know  how  near  He  is  to  you. 
Exalt  your  Saviour  then !  Crown  Him  with  many 
crowns.  Magnify  the  depth  of  that  nature,  the 
mystery  of  that  work  by  which  you  are  redeemed. 


MONDAY    IN    HOLY   \VEKK.  219 

You  will  not  lose  your  Saviour  so;  rather  He  shall 
come  as  He  came  on  that  day  of  His  exaltation  to 
the  heart  and  conscience  of  Jerusalem,  with  new 
love  and  power  to  your  heart  and  conscience. 
Whether  triumphing  or  suffering,  whether  on  Olivet 
or  Calvary,  He  is  always  the  same  Christ ;  always 
full  of  love,  and  always  strong  in  judgment.  Let  us 
open  our  gates  to  Him  to-day.  Come  in,  O  Christ, 
and  judge  us!  Come,  and  we  will  cast  out, — nay, 
come  and  cast  out  for  us  every  sin  that  hinders 
Thee!  Come,  purge  our  souls  by  Thy  presence  as 
Thou  didst  of  old  purge  the  temple!  Come,  be  our 
King  for  ever!  "  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the 
Name  of  the  Lord." 

In  Thee  all  fulness  dwelleth, 

All  grace  and  power  divine  ; 
The  glory  that  excelleth, 

O  Son  of  God,  is  Thine  : 
We  worship  Thee,  we  praise  Thee, 

To  Thee  alone  we  sing  ; 
We  praise  Thee  and  confess  Thee 

Our  glorious  Lord  and  King  ! 

I  beseech  Thee,  Lord  Jesus,  to  enter  the  temple  of  my  heart,  and 
to  purge  out  and  drive  far  away  from  me  whatever  Thou  shalt  see 
there  polluted  or  profane.  Preserve  me  from  evil  and  strengthen  me 
in  all  goodness,  that  I  may  enter  with  Thee  into  the  everlasting 
habitations  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem.     Amen. 


The  sun  was  darkened. — Luke,  xxiii.,  45. 

The  earth  did  quake,  and  the  rocks  rent. — Matt.,  xxvii.,  51. 

Science  is  teaching  us  to-day  about  the  vitality 
of  the  universe.  Everything  which  we  call  dead  is 
quivering  with  life,  the  stones  under  our  feet  as  well 
as  the  stars  over  our  heads.  The  beasts  and  hills, 
the  streams  and  fields,  are  all  alive ;  all  are  instinct 
with  the  vitality  of  God.  What  then  ?  As  the  best 
truths  which  science  teaches  are  always  making  way 
for  the  higher  truths  of  religion  and  the  spiritual  life, 
shall  not  this  truth  of  the  life  of  the  dead  world  pre- 
pare us  for  the  story  of  the  Crucifixion  ?  If  all  is 
alive,  and  all  life  is  one,  and  Christ's  is  the  most 
perfect  life  that  the  world  ever  saw,  is  it  then  strange 
that  the  awful  experience  of  that  perfect,  central 
Life  should  be  felt  in  terror  and  disturbance  and 
perplexed  hope  through  all  the  structure  of  the 
globe  ?  Shall  He  who  is  The  Life  shudder  and  fall 
in  death,  and  the  great  robes  of  the  lesser  life,  which 
are  the  garment  that  He  wears,  not  sway  and  trem- 
ble with  the  agitation  ? 

220 


TUESDAY   IN   HOLY   WEEK.  221 

This  is  the  meaning  of  the  darkness  and  the  earth- 
quake— what  shall  they  mean  to  us  ? 

First,  they  must  lend  their  emphasis  to  the  infi- 
nite, mysterious  importance  of  the  Tragedy.  If  it 
ever  lose  its  greatness  in  our  eyes,  if  the  things 
immediately  about  us  ever  shut  it  out  of  our  sight, 
let  the  tribute  of  nature,  the  awe  of  the  darkened 
sky  and  the  terror  of  the  bursting  rocks,  recall  to 
us  the  greatness,  the  fearfulness,  the  power  of  the 
death  of  Christ.  But,  besides  that,  let  it  teach  us 
always  of  the  liveness  of  the  earth.  It  is  no  dead, 
burnt-out  cinder  on  whose  breast  we  live.  It  is  a 
live  earth,  registering  in  its  vital  changes  all  that 
men  do,  sympathetic,  tremulous  with  vitality,  a 
world  to  honor  and  to  reverence  and  to  love,  not  to 
despise  nor  to  disgrace,  an  earth  for  noble  men  to 
live  noble  lives  upon,  an  earth  which,  being  itself 
full  of  the  lower  inspirations  of  the  life  of  God,  must 
have  true  help  to  give  to  all  those  higher  inspirations 
of  His  life  which  are  in  man.  What  can  we  say 
more  than  St.  Paul  has  said — a  creation  groaning 
and  travailing,  waiting  for  the  manifestation  of  the 
sons  of  God  ?     .     .     . 

There  is  another  incident  which  is  recorded  only 
by  St.  Matthew.  He  declares  that,  when  Jesus 
died,  "  Many  bodies  of  saints  which  had  slept  arose 


222  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

and  came  out  of  the  graves,  after  His  resurrection, 
and  appeared  unto  many."  The  story  is  told  in 
connection  with  Christ's  death,  though  it  is  not  till 
after  His  resurrection  that  the  wonder  is  said  to 
have  occurred. 

To  us,  at  least,  it  is  the  spiritual  meaning  of  the 
event  that  is  of  chief  value.  To  the  disciples  there 
may  have  been  other  uses  in  it  which  we  do  not 
know.  To  us  it  offers  a  picture  of  the  way  in 
which  the  death  of  Christ — the  supreme  self-offering 
of  Man  to  God — reached  out  and  claimed  for  itself 
and  filled  with  life  and  unity  all  the  devotion  and 
piety  and  earnest  struggle  after  goodness  which  was 
or  ever  had  been  anywhere  upon  the  earth  in  all  the 
history  of  man.     .     .     . 

Life  given  to  good  efforts  of  human  nature  that 
seemed  dead,  and  unity  given  to  solitary  efforts  of 
human  nature  that  seemed  hopelessly  estranged — is 
not  that  the  meaning  of  this  one  of  the  events  of  the 
Crucifixion  ?  Sometimes  the  absorbing  interest  and 
value  of  the  death  of  Christ  has  seemed  to  make 
worthless  the  good  works  of  men  who  lived  outside 
of  its  immediate  and  conscious  influence — is  not  its 
proper  and  legitimate  power  just  the  reverse  ? 
Does  it  not  claim  in  its  true  quality,  and  unite  with 
every  other  righteous  deed  of  man,  the  darkest  and 


TUESDAY  IN   HOLY  WEEK.  223 

slightest  and  remotest  of  all  the  struggles  of  the 
human  soul  to  obey  God  ?  Stand  by  the  Cross, 
and  catch  its  spirit,  and  the  saints  which  sleep  shall 
rise  and  come  to  you, — not  merely  your  own  dear 
dead,  not  merely  those  whom  you  have  known 
to  be  true  servants  of  the  Lord  according  to  their 
light,  but  all  who,  anywhere,  in  any  age,  have  tried 
to  do  right  and  not  wrong,  to  do  good  and  not  evil, 
and  to  find  God.  They  shall  all  arise  and  come ; 
they  shall  appear  to  you ;  they  shall  speak  to  you 
and  tell  you  of  the  pains  and  joys  of  their  struggle; 
and,  knowing  at  last  in  Christ  the  Source  of  all  their 
hitherto  unknown  strength,  they  shall  bid  you 
believe  in  Him  and  be  strong. 

Behold,  then,  the  centralness  of  the  Cross !  There 
is  no  need  of  man  which  the  Cross,  thoroughly 
known  and  believed  in,  cannot  abundantly  supply. 

It  will  do  its  work  for  the  world  as  the  world  shall 
become  ready  for  it.  Not  yet!  Not  all  at  once, 
but  slowly,  steadily,  the  Cross  and  all  it  means — 
God's  Love  made  manifest  in  and  to  obedient  man 
— slowly,  steadily,  it  shall  occupy  the  world  and 
prove  itself  the  master-power  of  human  life. 

But  it  may  become  the  master-power  of  our  lives 
now.  For  us  the  rocks  may  move,  and  the  dead 
awake  to  Hfe,  and  God  be  infinitely  near  instead  of 


224  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

SO  terribly  far  away.  We  may  talk  with  the  Saints 
of  all  ages,  and  feed  our  faith  from  theirs.  Into  our 
souls  may  come  the  power  of  the  Crucified,  making 
us  know  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God. 

When  ? 

Now! 

O  dying  Christ!  wilt  Thou  not  fill  us  with  Thy 
life!  Wilt  Thou  not  make  us  know  that  to  try  to 
live  outside  the  power  of  Thy  death  is  death  indeed ! 

Behold,  we  try  to  give  ourselves  to  Thee !  Wilt 
Thou  not  take  us  entirely — entirely — and  make  us 
henceforth  to  be  not  our  own,  but  Thine  who  didst 
die  for  us ! 

Inmost  heaven  its  radiance  pours 
Round  thy  windows,  at  thy  doors, 
Asking  but  to  be  let  in, 
Waiting  to  flood  out  thy  sin, 
Offering  thee  unfailing  health, 
Love's  refreshment,  boundless  wealth  ; 
Voices  at  thy  life's  gate  say, 
"  Be  immortal,  Soul,  To-day  !  " 

Blessed  Lord  Jesus,  Who  earnest  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil, 
and  to  make  us  heirs  of  everlasting  life,  grant  us  grace  to  live  so 
near  to  Thee  every  day  in  the  path  of  duty  that  we  may  begin  the 
Heavenly  life  here,  which  shall  be  ours  for  ever  hereafter.     Amen. 


XKIlc&ne6ba?  in  Ibolp  mcch. 

Now  from  the  sixth  hour  there  was  darkness  over  all  the  earth 
until  the  ninth  hour. — Matt.,  xxvii.,  45. 

We  can  imagine  that  a  joy  came  to  the  heart  of 
Jesus  when  the  darkness  fell  upon  the  earth.  No 
longer  did  the  blank,  unsympathetic  landscape  stare 
Him  in  the  face.  His  soul  delighted  and  was 
soothed  when  the  darkened  world  entered  into  His 
struggle.  And  so  there  is,  I  am  sure,  with  all  His 
wish  to  see  us  happy,  a  satisfaction  in  the  heart  of 
Christ  when  any  soul,  out  of  its  first  careless,  easy 
indifference  about  Him  and  His  suffering,  passes 
into  the  darkness.  He  rejoices  in  its  temporary 
eclipse  because  He  knows  that  it  promises  a  brighter 
and  more  permanent  spiritual  light  to  come.  He  is 
glad  for  you,  if  your  troubled  soul  is  really  feeling 
the  darkness  of  the  Cross,  because  He  means  to 
lead  you  through  the  Cross's  darkness  to  the  Cross's 
light.     .     .     . 

The   Shame   of   Sin   and    the    Bewilderment    of 

S5  225 


226  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

Struggle — these  are  the  elements  that  make  the 
darkness  which  falls  upon  a  human  soul  when  it  is 
really  taken  possession  of  by  the  Cross  of  Christ.  It 
is  like  the  darkness  that  was  over  all  the  earth  from 
the  sixth  hour  to  the  ninth  hour.  The  earth  knew 
that  that  darkness  was  no  ordinary  night.  .  .  . 
It  was  the  sign  of  a  terrible  woe,  and  yet  it  was  the 
token  of  a  glorious  promise.  The  common  nights 
seem.ed  commonplace  beside  this  noonday  darkness. 
And  so  your  heart  has  known  many  darknesses. 
You  have  been  discouraged  and  disappointed  and 
depressed  very  often.  You  have  been  frightened  at 
the  immensity  of  life;  you  have  been  wearied  with 
the  littleness  of  life.  You  have  been  haunted  by 
persecutions,  saddened  by  ingratitude,  vexed  by 
misconception,  and  angered  because  men  would  not 
honor  you  as  you  deserved.  All  those  darknesses 
have  come  to  you.  They  have  come  and  gone. 
Ihey  have  been  to  you  like  the  night  which  you 
knew  would  pass  away  and  leave  you  as  it  found 
you.  But  when  you  come  into  the  power  of  the 
death  of  Christ,  you  feel  the  difference  and  the  new- 
ness. TJiat  is  a  darkness  which  will  not  leave  you 
as  it  found  you.  From  it  you  cannot  go  out  just  as 
you  went  in.  In  it  you  must  be  regenerated  and 
made  a  new  man.     It  is  all  alive  with  power  and 


WEDNESDAY   IN   IIOLV    WEEK.  22/ 

hope;  for,  at  the  heart  of  all  its  shame  for  sin 
there  is  the  soul's  undestroyed  and  indestructible 
value,  and  in  the  midst  of  its  bewilderment  of 
struggle  there  is  an  inextinguishable  hope  of  suc- 
cess. The  ordinary  depressions  and  discourage- 
ments of  life  are  forever  different  from  that  darkness 
in  whose  centre,  at  whose  heart,  hangs  Christ  on 
His  cross.  They  are  full  of  weakness.  He  throbs 
out  strength — His  own  strength — through  all  the 
darkness  which  He  pours  around  the  soul. 

Who  does  not  know  that  there  is  a  shame  w^iich 
makes  weak,  and  there  is  a  shame  which  makes 
strong  ?  There  is  a  shame  with  which  the  detected 
robber  skulks  away  out  of  the  sight  of  men ;  there  is 
a  shame  with  which  the  soldier,  whose  captain  rush- 
ing into  his  deserted  place  has  shown  him  his  cow- 
ardice, rushes  forward  in  his  turn  and  sets  his  heroic 
heart  between  his  captain  and  the  foe.  And  so 
there  is  a  bewilderment  which  turns  to  palsy,  and 
there  is  another  bewilderment  which  turns  to  faith. 
The  shame  that  begets  heroism  and  the  bewilder- 
ment that  turns  to  faith  are  the  shame  and  bewilder- 
ment that  issue  forth  from  the  cross  of  Christ.  The 
darkness  at  whose  heart  He  hangs,  crucified  for  us, 
is  the  darkness  that  has  in  it  the  promise — nay,  the 
certainty — of  light. 


228  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

That  darkness  is  around  you  now.  You  are 
ashamed  of  your  sin  in  the  presence  of  the  great 
Sacrifice  for  sin.  You  are  in  the  thick  of  the  strug- 
gle to  do,  not  your  own  will  but  the  will  of  God  to 
whom  Christ  gave  you  in  His  sacrifice  for  all  man- 
kind. It  would  be  useless  to  tell  you  that  all  is 
bright  with  you.  It  would  be  useless  to  deny  that 
life  is  in  some  sense  darker,  more  serious,  more 
critical,  more  full  of  terrible  issues  and  deeper  fears, 
than  it  used  to  be  before  you  felt  the  power  of  the 
Cross.  What  shall  I  say  then  ?  May  I  not  say 
this  ? — be  thankful  for  the  darkness  into  which  you 
have  been  led.  If  the  way  to  the  light  that  never 
shall  go  out  must  lie  through  darkness,  be  thankful 
for  the  darkness.  Be  thankful  that  the  brightness 
of  pride  and  carelessness  have  given  place  to  the 
darkness  of  shame  and  struggle.  Pray  to  God,  first 
of  all,  that  you  may  never  go  back  into  the  pride 
where  you  were  not  ashamed  of  sinning,  and  the 
carelessness  where  you  did  not  even  try  to  sacrifice 
your  will  to  God's. 

And  yet  be  sure  that  darkness  is  not  the  End, 
that  beyond  it  lies  light,  that  to  bring  you  out  into 
light  is  the  purpose  for  which  alone  God  brings  you, 
or  permits  you  to  be  brought  into  darkness : 


WEDNESDAY    IN    noi.\'    WEEK.  229 

Giving  thanks  unto  the  Ejither,  whicli  halli  made  us  meet  to  be 
partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light  ; 

Who  hath  delivered  us  from  the  power  of  darkness,  and  hath  trans- 
lated us  into  the  kingdom  of  His  dear  Son, 

In  Whom  we  have  redemption  through  His  blood,  even  the  for- 
giveness of  sins. 

O  God  of  hope,  the  true  Light  of  faithful  souls,  and  perfect  Bright- 
ness of  the  blessed,  Who  art  verily  the  Light  of  Thy  Church,  grant 
that  my  heart  may  both  render  Thee  a  worthy  prayer,  and  always 
glorify  Thee  with  the  offering  of  praises  :  Through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.     Amen. 


^buraba?  in  Ibol^  Meeh^ 

I  am  the  living  Bread  which  came  down  from  heaven  :  if  any  man 
eat  of  this  bread  he  shall  live  for  ever :  and  the  bread  that  I  will  give 
is  My  flesh,  which  I  will  give  for  the  life  of  the  world. 

The  Jews  therefore  strove  among  themselves,  saying :  How  can 
this  man  give  us  his  flesh  to  eat  ? — John,  vi.,  51,  52. 

Notice  how  Christ  answers  this  doubting  ques- 
tion: "  Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man, 
and  drink  His  blood,  ye  have  no  Hfe  in  you." 
What  does  it  mean  but  this — that  you  cannot  know 
how  it  is  done  except  by  doing  it  ?  It  may  seem 
strange,  but  it  is  no  new  law.  It  is  a  law  which 
runs  through  all  life  in  application  to  the  highest 
things.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  to  meet  sorrow ;  you 
must  do  it.     So  only  can  you  learn  how  to  do  it. 

How  can  I,"  cries  the  poor,  bereaved  heart,  sit- 
ting in  the  darkened  room  alone,  "  How  can  I  live 
my  dreary  life  alone  ?"  **  Go  on  and  live  it,"  is 
the  answer.  And  as  he  goes  on  it  is  not  dreary, 
and    he   can    live    it    bravely    in    Christ's    strength. 

"  How  can  I  eat  His  flesh  ? "     **  Except  you  do  you 

230 


THURSDAY   IN  TIOLV    \VEP:K.  23! 

have  no  life."  It  seems  hard  and  unreasonable,  this 
inexorable  demand  for  the  unintelligible  and  impos- 
sible ;  but  it  is  only  the  principle  of  all  experimental 
truth ;  that  in  no  other  way  than  by  experience  can 
it  be  learned.  It  seems  to  involve  a  contradiction, 
but  yet  it  is  the  method  of  much  of  the  very  best 
progress  that  we  make  and  we  all  act  upon  it  con- 
stantly : 

"  You  must  love  Him,  ere  to  you 
He  shall  seem  worthy  of  your  love." 

The  general  spirit  of  the  figure  is  clear;  it  means 
support  or  strength.  That  is  the  idea  of  food. 
Only,  food  means  a  certain  kind  of  strength ;  it  is 
strength  in  a  man,  not  strength  without  a  man.  It 
is  strength  incorporated,  and  not  strength  applied. 
.  .  .  To  feed  on  Christ,  then,  is  to  get  His 
strength  into  us  to  be  our  strength.  You  feed  on 
the  cornfield,  and  the  strength  of  the  cornfield 
comes  into  you  and  is  your  strength.  You  feed  on 
the'  cornfield  and  then  go  and  build  your  house, 
and  it  is  the  cornfield  in  your  strong  arm  that  builds 
the  house,  that  cuts  down  the  trees,  and  piles  the 
stone,  and  lifts  the  roof  into  its  place.  You  feed  on 
Christ  and  then  go  and  live  your  life,  and  it  is  Christ 
in  you  that  lives  your  life,  that  helps  the  poor,  that 


232  thp:  more  abundant  life. 

tells  the  truth,  that  fights  the  battle,  and  that  wins 
the  crown. 

But  what  is  this  strength  of  Christ  that  comes  into 
us  ?  There  can  be  but  one  answer.  It  is  His  char- 
acter. It  is  the  moral  qualities  of  His  nature  that 
are  to  enter  into  us  and  be  ours  until  we  are  His. 
This  is  His  strength — His  purity,  His  truth,  His 
mercifulness, — in  one  word,  His  holiness,  the  per- 
fectness  of  His  moral  life.  .  .  .  This  is  the 
strength  of  which  we  eat,  and  which,  like  true  food, 
enters  into  us  and  becomes  truly  ours  while  it  is  still 
His. 

And  this  brings  us  to  the  understanding  of  that 
word  "  flesh."  We  are  to  eat  His  flesh.  Now, 
the  flesh  was  the  expression  of  the  human  life  of 
Jesus.  It  was  in  His  incarnation  that  He  became 
capable  of  uttering  those  qualities  in  which  man 
might  be  like  Him,  which  men  might  receive  from 
Him  and  take  into  themselves.  Think  of  it.  God 
had  stood  before  men  from  the  first,  and  they  had 
looked  with  awe  and  adoration  upon  Him,  throned 
far  above  them.  .  .  .  What  was  there  in  the 
Deity  that  could  repeat  itself  in  man  ?  Not  His 
majesty,  not  omnipotence  and  omniscience,  surely. 
.  .  .  Then  came  the  Incarnation.  Here  was 
God   in  the  flesh.      Solemnly  that   of   the  Divine 


THURSDAY    IN    HOLY    WEEK.  233 

which  was  capable  of  being  wrapped  in  and  of  Hving 
through  the  human,  was  brought  close  within  that 
wondrous  life  lived  in  a  human  body.  There  was 
the  God  we  were  to  imitate,  to  grow  like  to,  to  take 
into  ourselves  until  He  filled  us  with  Himself.  It 
was  the  incarnate  God ;  it  was  the  God  in  the  flesh 
that  was  to  enter  into  man.  This  was  the  flesh 
which  we  were  to  eat,  and  by  which  we  were  to 
live. 

This  giving  of  His  own  flesh  for  our  food  is  always 
spoken  of  in  connection  with  the  great  Sacrifice  of 
the  flesh  in  which  He  gave  it  for  us.  There  is 
always  this  association  between  the  reception  of  the 
strength  of  the  incarnate  Christ  and  His  crucifixion, 
in  which  He  gave  Himself  up  that  He  might  furnish 
that  strength  to  His  people  forever.  The  great 
Christian  Sacrament,  which  embodies  this  idea — the 
idea  of  the  feeding  of  the  soul  upon  the  flesh  of 
Christ — is  all  filled  full  of  the  memories  of  the  agony 
in  which  the  flesh  was  offered.  What  does  this 
mean  ?  Does  it  not  mean  this, — that  however  man 
longs  for  His  God,  however  man  sees  that  in  the 
incarnate  Christ  there  is  the  God  he  needs  and  whom 
his  nature  was  meant  to  receive,  it  is  only  when  man 
sees  that  Divine  Being  suffering  for  him,  only  when 
he  stands  beside  the  Cross  and  beholds  the  love  in 


234  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

the  agony,  that  his  hungry  nature  is  able  to  take 
the  food  it  needs,  that  is  so  freely  offered  ?  The 
flesh  must  be  broken  before  we  can  take  it.  This  is 
what  Christ  says ;  and  the  history  of  thousands  of 
souls  has  borne  its  witness  to  it,  that  it  is  the  suffer- 
ing Saviour,  the  Saviour  in  His  suffering,  that  saves 
the  soul.  The  suffering  Saviour,  inly  known,  and 
through  His  wounds  letting  out  His  Hfe  into  the 
starved  lives  of  them  who  hold  Him  fast — that  is 
the  Gospel. 

Before  His  cross  the  lesson  must  be  learned. 
Stand  there  until  you  are  grateful  through  and 
through  for  such  a  love  so  marvellously  shown.  Let 
gratitude  open  your  life  to  receive  His  Spirit ;  let  it 
make  you  long  to  be  like  Him;  let  love  bring  Him 
into  you  so  that  you  shall  do  His  will  because  you 
have  His  heart.  That  entrance  of  His  life  into 
yours  shall  give  you  strength  and  nourishment  such 
as  you  never  knew  before.  Then  you  shall  know,  in 
growing,  dependent,  delighted  strength,  more  and 
more  every  day,  the  answer  to  the  old  ever  new 
question,  "  How  can  this  man  give  us  His  flesh  to 
eat?" 

How  can  He  ?  Certainly  He  can  and  will  if  you 
will  go  to  Him,  and  pray  to  Him,  and  love  Him,  and 
obey  Him,  and  receive  Him.     And  what  a  strength 


THURSDAY   IN   IIULV   WEEK.  235 

comes  of  that  holy  feeding  !  Where  is  the  task  that 
terrifies  the  man  who  hves  by  Christ  ?  Where  is  the 
discouragement  over  which  he  will  not  walk,  to  go 
to  the  right  which  he  must  reach?  You  may  starve 
him,  but  he  has  this  inner  food.  You  may  darken 
his  life,  but  he  has  this  inner  light.  You  may  make 
war  about  him,  but  he  has  this  peace  within.  You 
may  turn  the  world  into  a  hell,  but  he  carries  this 
inner  heaven  safely  through  its  fiercest  fires.  He  is 
like  Christ  Himself ;  he  has  meat  to  eat  that  we  know 
not  of,  and  in  the  strength  of  it  he  overcomes  at  last, 
and  is  conqueror  through  his  Lord. 

It  is  possible,  and  may  God  make  it  real  for  all  of 
us! 

O  Corn  of  Wheat,  which  God  for  us  did  sow 
In  the  rough  furrows  of  this  world  of  woe, 
That  Thou  the  Bread  of  Life  for  us  might  be, 
To  nourish  us  to  all  eternity  ; 
Grant  us,  through  faith,  O  Christ,  to  feed  on  Thee  ! 

O  true  and  living  Vine  ! 
Bending  so  low  from  heaven  in  Thine  endeavor 

To  give  us  all  of  Thine  immortal  Wine, 
That  we  may  live  for  ever, 
Grant  us,  through  faith,  O  Christ,  to  drink  of  Thee  ! 

Lord,  evermore  give  us  this  Bread  ;  give  us  Thyself.  Thou  who  in 
love  givest  Thyself  to  us  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament  of  Thy  Body  and 
Blood,  grant  us  grace  in  love  to  receive  Thee,  in  love  to  retain  Thee, 
in  love  to  be  joined  to  Thee  eternally.     Amen. 


(Boot)  3fri&ai?» 

Pilate  saith  unto  them,  Shall  T  crucify  your  King? — John,  xix.,  15. 

The  shame  and  the  exaltation !  The  exaltation 
and  the  shame!  These  two  words  describe  the 
power  which  the  sight  of  the  crucifixion  of  its  King 
must  have  on  human  nature.  Just  put  it  in  the 
simplest  way  to  yourself; — here  are  you,  a  m.an,  liv- 
ing your  human  life  in  careless,  comfortable  selfish- 
ness, and  to  you  Good  Friday  comes.  What  does  it 
mean  ?  Once  into  the  centre  of  this  same  humanity 
came  its  true  King, — the  Man  in  whom  humanity  was 
perfect,  perfect  humanity  because  filled  with  divinity. 
And  lo  !  humanity  was  such  that  its  King  could  not 
live  in  its  midst  without  suffering  and  dying.  "  Shall 
I  crucify  your  King?"  asked  the  Power  of  Evil,  and 
no  remonstrance  came  from  the  condition  of  human- 
ity. He  had  to  die  !  And  if  He  were  here  by  your 
side  to-day,  must  He  not  suffer  still  ?  Must  not  still 
the  ideal  of  what  you  were  made  to  be,  be  tortured 
by  the  reality  of  what  you  are  ?     There  is  the  way 

236 


GOOD   FRIDAY.  237 

in  which  you  crucify  the  Son  of  God  afresh.  There 
is  the  power,  the  blessed  power  of  overwhehning 
shame  !  And  yet,  behold  again  !  He  is  willing  to 
be  crucified  !  That  too  is  manifest  on  Good  Friday. 
It  is  terrible  to  need  the  sacrifice  of  such  a  King:  it 
is  glorious  to  have  a  King  who  will  make  such  a 
sacrifice.     There  is  the  exaltation. 

In  more  than  one  old  heathen  story  it  is  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  King  of  the  country  that  saves  the  sinful 
and  plague-stricken  country  from  its  curse.  The 
people  stand  and  see  their  King  go  quietly  forth, 
alone,  majestic,  sorrowful  ;  never  so  thoroughly  their 
King  as  when  he  thus  goes  to  death  for  them.  And 
as  they  stand  and  look  their  hearts  are  full  of  these 
two  powers — exaltation  and  shame  ; — exaltation  that 
they  have  a  King  who  is  willing  and  able  to  save 
them  by  his  dying,  shame  that  they  are  such  that  it 
is  only  by  his  dying  that  he  can  give  them  salvation. 

So  must  we  see  our  King  go  to  His  death.  Oh, 
never  does  human  nature  seem  so  glorious  and  so 
wicked  all  at  once  as  when  we  stand  before  the 
cross  of  Jesus  !  The  most  enthusiastic  hopes,  the 
most  profound  humiliation,  have  found  their  inspira- 
tion there.  Down  at  its  foot  have  bowed  and  wept 
the  penitents  who  seemed  to  have  reached  the  low- 
est depths  of  self-contempt  and  misery  ;  out  from 


238  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

beneath  its  arms  have  ridden  forth  the  knights  of 
hope  and  courage  for  the  celestial  conquest  of  the 
world.  The  glory  and  disgrace  of  our  humanity 
both  culminate  on  Calvary ;  for  there  the  Son  of 
Man  in  agony  and  death  gave  Himself  in  conse- 
crated sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  men. 

Oh,  let  us  take  the  disgrace,  my  friends,  but  let  us 
not  fail  to  take  the  glory  too  !  If  I  have  my  share 
in  the  sin  for  which  my  King  was  crucified,  I  have 
my  true  share  also  in  the  offering  of  this  Humanity, 
which  is  both  mine  and  His,  which  He  made  there. 
As  He  entered  into  my  sin,  so  may  I  enter  into  His 
sacrifice.  He  was  offered  up  there  for  me  because 
I  am  a  sinner,  but  I  was  offered  up  there  in  Him 
because  He  is  my  King.  Let  me  not  forget  that 
last !  The  life  which  I  live  now  is  an  offered  life ; 
long,  long  ago,  it  was  presented  to  God  and  Holi- 
ness, the  God  of  Holiness  upon  the  cross.  There- 
fore let  me  go  among  my  temptations  strong  in  His 
strength ;  let  me  be  pure,  brave,  and  unselfish  ;  let 
me  say  to  Sin,  ''  I  do  not  know  you  ;  I  died  to  you 
in  my  King's  death."  Let  me  say  to  Goodness,  "I 
belong  to  thee,  for  I  was  given  to  thee  in  the  giving 
of  my  King."  Let  me,  in  St.  Paul's  great  phrase, 
"know  nothing  save  Jesus  Christ  and  Him  cru- 
cified"; for  to  know  Him  and   Him  crucified  is  to 


GOOD   FRIDAY.  239 

know  the  kingdom  consecrated  in  the  King.  It  is  to 
know  everything — the  world,  my  brethren,  myself, 
everything — to  know  them  all  as  sacrificed,  dedicated 
entirely  to  God  ;  it  is  to  know  myself  and  all  the 
world  as  not  our  own,  but  His ! 

The  Earth  was  faint  with  battle,  and  she  lay 
With  weary  face  and  garments  rolled  in  blood, 
An  exile  from  the  presence  of  her  God, 
Through  all  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day. 
And,  "  Oh,  that  one  would  bring  to  me,"  she  said, 

"  While  I  in  anguish  wait, 
Of  the  water  from  the  Well  of  Paradise, 
Which  is  beside  the  gate  !  " 

A  mighty  Man,  full  armed  for  the  fight, 
Burst  through  the  foemen  with  resistless  might — 
Not  heeding  that  the  angel  of  the  gate 
Did  pierce  Him  sorely  with  his  sword  of  light — 
And  brought  unto  the  Earth, 

What  time  the  night  fell  late. 
Of  the  water  from  the  Well  of  Paradise, 
Which  is  beside  the  gate. 

Meekly,  with  covered  face  and  bended  head, 
"  He  hath  done  matchless  things  for  me,"  she  said  : 
"  This  water  do  I  hold  for  this  Man's  blood  ; 
I  take  the  cup  and  drink — and  live  to  God." 

O  Loving  Father,  Who  hast  sent  Thy  Son  Jesus  Christ  to  die  on 
the  Cross  for  us,  give  us  grace  to  see  in  that  great  offering  Thy  love 
for  us,  and  to  love  Thee  through  Him  by  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  through  the  same  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


jEaeter  Cvcn* 

And  that  He  died  for  all,  that  they  which  live  should  not  hence- 
forth live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  Him  which  died  for  them  and 
rose  again. — 2  Cor.,  v.  15. 

Who  delivered  us  from  so  great  a  death,  and  doth  deliver :  in 
Whom  we  trust  that  He  will  yet  deliver  us. — 2  Cor.,  i.,  10. 

How  does  the  death  of  Christ  bring  this  new  life? 
what  is  there  in  His  sacrifice  that  sets  men  free  from 
living  to  themselves,  and  makes  them  live  to  Him  ? 
I  think  we  see  it  best  if  we  look  at  those  typical 
apostles.  Certainly  so  it  was  with  them.  From  the 
day  of  Christ's  crucifixion  any  one  who  reads  the 
story  feels  a  change  in  them,  and  knows  full  well 
what  is  its  nature.  Before,  they  loved  Him  ;  while 
He  was  alive,  they  followed  Him  ;  now,  their  love 
has  become  their  religion,  and  their  following  of  Him 
is  all  their  life.  They  are  living  imto  Him.  As  down 
a  hillside,  with  the  broad  sea  lying  at  its  foot,  a  mul- 
titude of  streams  run  in  their  different  channels,  yet 
all  run  to  the  same  end  ;  so  these  apostles'  lives  are 
very  different,  yet  all  lived  unto  Christ. 


EASTER   EVEN.  24 1 

Look  at  them,  then,  and  you  will  see  what  it  is  in 
His  death  that  is  so  powerful.  Their  Master's  love 
and  their  Master's  nature  became  absolutely  clear  to 
them  there.  ...  It  was  what  happens  when  any 
dear  and  rich  life  is  taken  away  from  you.  At  first,  the 
only  consciousness  is  of  a  shock  and  bitter  pain,  which 
is  even  precious  to  you  because  it  is  so  bound  up  with 
your  love  for  the  departed.  By-and-by  the  sharpest 
pain  subsides ;  perhaps  you  almost  blame  yourself 
for  losing  it,  as  if  it  were  a  sort  of  disloyalty  ;  but 
something  better  takes  its  place.  You  look  back  on 
that  life  as  a  completed  thing;  you  see  the  meaning 
of  it ;  you  are  able  to  put  its  parts  together  and  to 
put  the  whole  in  its  place.  The  passionate  storm  of 
sorrow  calms  into  the  tranquil  delight  of  thoughtful 
recollection.  Your  friend  comes  back  to  you,  as  it 
were,  in  your  full  appreciation  of  what  he  was  and 
vivid  certainty  of  what  he  is.     .     .     . 

This  must  have  been  the  way  in  which  the  dis- 
ciples looked  back  upon  the  death  of  Jesus, — never 
losing  the  sense  of  its  sadness,  but  getting  always  a 
deeper  knowledge  of  its  infinite  meaning.  They  had 
known  much  of  each  (their  Master's  love  and  their 
Master's  nature)  before,  but  now  the  veil  seemed  en- 
tirely withdrawn,  and  they  saw  both  completely.  They 

did  not  tell  the  story  to  themselves  perhaps  ;  they 
16 


242  THE   MORE   ABUNDANT  LIFE. 

were  all  stunned  with  grief  and  horror ;  very  blindly 
it  crept  in  and  laid  itself  upon  their  intelligence. 
They  went  home  and  sat  through  all  the  dreary 
Sabbath,  thinking  perhaps  that  they  had  lost  their 
Christ,  not  knowing  that  they  had  only  just  really 
found  Him  ;  but  when  the  sunlight  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion came,  it  touched  this  new  knowledge  sleeping 
in  their  hearts,  and  in  an  instant  ripened  it  to  con- 
sciousness and  action.  "  Behold,  how  He  loved  us  !  " 
and  ^'Behold  what  He  is!" — these  were  the  seeds 
that  dropped  into  their  natures  in  the  awful  furrows 
that  the  Crucifixion  made.  "  Come,  let  us  serve 
Him,"  and  *'  Come,  let  us  copy  Him," — those  were 
the  plants  of  resolution  that  sprang  up  from  the 
seeds  in  the  rich  warmth  of  the  Resurrection. 

But  He  died  not  for  those  disciples  only : 
He  died  for  all,  that  all  might  live  to  Him. 
He  died  for  us,  that  we  might  live  to  Him  ;  that 
we  may  always  have  our  faces  set  that  way,  al- 
ways be  coming  nearer  to  Him,  always  be  serving 
Him  with  a  profounder  gratitude  and  imitating  Him 
with  a  more  implicit  love,  always  be  struggling  tow- 
ards Him  till  at  last  we  shall  come  to  Him,  and  be 
with  Him  forever.  That  is  what  He  died  for. 
Watching  that  as  it  goes  on  in  us.  He  shall  see  of 
the  travail  of  His  soul,  and  shall  be  satisfied. 


EASTER   EVEN.  243 

Bring  your  finest  linen  and  your  spice, 

Swathe  the  sacred  Dead  ; 
Bind  with  careful  hands  and  piteous  eyes 

The  napkin  round  His  head  : 

Lay  Him  in  the  garden-rock  to  rest : 

Rest  you  the  Sabbath  length  : 
The  Sun  that  went  down  crimson  in  the  west 

Shall  rise  renewed  in  strength. 

God  Almighty  shall  give  joy  for  pain, 

Shall  comfort  him  who  grieves  : 
Lo  !  He  with  joy  shall  doubtless  come  again, 

And  with  Him  bring  His  sheaves. 

O  Christ,  Saviour  of  the  world,  insomuch  as  I  have  profited  by  this 
Lenten  season,  bless  me  ;  insomuch  as  I  have  failed  to  use  it  faith- 
fully, forgive  me. 

Bless  unto  me  this  coming  night  of  holy  Easter  ;  that  in  it  I  may 
truly  rise  from  the  death  of  sin  to  the  life  of  righteousness. 

Lord  and  Life-giver,  come  and  breathe  upon  my  soul  ;  Thou  canst 
lift  me  out  of  the  lowest  pit. 

Perfect  Thy  strength  in  my  weakness  :  and  let  Thy  grace  be  sufficient 
for  me. 

Since  Thou  hast  not  taken  me  away  in  the  midst  of  my  days  but 
upholden  my  soul  in  life,  suffer  not  my  feet  to  slip. 

Grant  me  some  work  of  Thy  love  to  do  ;  and  prosper  it  in  my 
hands. 

Let  me  not  die  until  I  have  fulfilled  Thy  will ;  and  let  me  enter 
with  joy  into  rest. 

Neither  pray  I  for  myself  alone,  but  for  all  whom  Thou  hast  given 
me,  or  to  whom  my  prayer  may  avail  aught  : 


244  THE   MORE  ABUNDANT   LIFE. 

For  all  who  fail  to  call  upon  Thee,  and  for  whom  no  one  pleads ; 
let  Thy  love  be  their  intercessor  : 

For  all  who  are  in  any  agony  of  anxiety,  or  in  any  distress  of  afflic- 
tion : 

For  all  who  strive  in  any  good  work,  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
help  of  men : 

For  all  whom  I  love  or  who  love  me,  in  whatever  place  or  circum- 
stance : 

For  all  whom  I  have  hurt,  or  tempted,  or  wronged,  in  thought, 
word,  or  deed  : 

For  all  the  souls  whom  I  have  loved,  departed  into  Thy  hand  : 

Lift  Thou  up  the  Light  of  Thy  countenance  upon  us  all,  O  God  ; 
and  bless  us  with  Thy  continual  peace. 

Grant  us  grace  to  say  always  to  Thy  perfect  Will :  Amen  and 
Amen. 


INDEX  TO  POETS. 

John  Worden ^ 

B.  M 12,  239 

Margaret  E.  wSangster i8,  121 

Frances  R.  Havergal 23,30,61,143,219 

Christina  G.  Rossetti 36,213,243 

HoratiusBonar,  D.D 41,71,92 

John  G.  Whittier 47,  203 

Lucy  Larcom 51,193,209,224 

Stuart  Sterne 55 

Frederick  W.  Faber,  D.D 67,99 

Eva  Stuart 76 

James  Russell  Lowell 81,  198 

Susan  Coolidge 86 

George  Herbert 104,  170 

Caroline  M.  Noel 109 

Samuel  Longfellow 113 

Alice  Cary 125 

J.  L.  M.  W 130 

Samuel  T.  Coleridge 136 

Anna  L.  Waring 14S 

W.  M.  L.  Jay i54 

George  Macdonald I59 

Julia  Wood 165 

Louise  Mathilde I75 

245 


246  INDEX   TO    POETS. 

Sarali  Doudney         .........     180 

Robert  Browninjr  ) 

185 

James  Wilson         ) 

Dora  Greenwell        .........     189 

Anna  E.  Hamilton *         .     235 

THE    PRAYERS 

Are  taken  or  compiled  from  Bright's  Ancient  Collects,  a  Kempis's 
Imitation  of  Christ,  Knox  Little's  Treasury  of  Devotion,  Rowland 
Williams's  Psalms  and  Litanies,  Christina  G.  Rossetti's  Face  of  the 
Deep,  and  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY 


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